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welcome-to-roomba-fazbender · 11 months

Note

Charlie read us the bee movie script

"FUCK YOU"

"I'M READING THE ENTIRE"

"MY OCTOPUS TEACHER TRANSCRIPT"

WARNING: VERY LONG POST

"A lot of people say that an octopus is like an alien.

But the strange thing is, as you get closer to them,

you realize that we're very similar in a lot of ways.

You're stepping into this completely different world.

Such an incredible feeling.

And you feel you're on the brink of something extraordinary.

But you realize that there's a line that can't be crossed.

It's quite a long time ago now, that day when it all started.

This place on the tip of Africa is known as the Cape of Storms.

My childhood memories are completely dominated

by the rocky shore, the intertidal and the kelp forest.

We had this little wooden bungalow,

literally below the high-water mark.

So when those huge storms used to come in,

the ocean used to smash the doors down and fill up the bottom of the house.

So it was incredibly exciting as a child

to literally live in the force of that giant Atlantic Ocean.

Most of my childhood was spent in the rock pools,

diving in the shallow kelp forest.

That's what I most loved to do.

As an adult, I'd been separated from that.

And that was fine at first.

Until I went to the central Kalahari about 20 years ago.

I was making a film called The Great Dance with my brother.

And then I met these men

who were probably some of the best trackers in the world.

To watch these men...

go into the incredible, subtle signs in nature,

things that my eye couldn't even see,

and then follow them, sometimes for hours,

and find hidden animals in the landscape

was just extraordinary to witness.

I mean, they just were inside of the natural world.

And I could feel I was outside.

And I had this deep longing to be inside that world.

I went through two years of absolute hell.

I had been working hard for a long time,

I'd just worn myself out.

I hadn't slept properly for months.

My family was suffering.

And I was getting sick from all the pressure.

My mind couldn't deal with all that stuff.

And I didn't wanna see a camera or an edit suite ever again.

I couldn't even face that.

Your great purpose in life is now...

just in pieces.

And you've got this young child that's growing up.

Tom.

I just couldn't, in that state, be a good father to my son.

I had to have a radical change.

And I took inspiration from my childhood,

and I took inspiration from these master trackers

I worked with in the Kalahari.

And the only way I knew how to do it was to...

be in this ocean.

In the beginning, it's a hard thing to get in the water.

It's one of the wildest, most scary places to swim on the planet.

The water drops to as low as eight, nine degrees Celsius.

The cold takes your breath away.

And you just have to relax.

And then you'll get this beautiful window of time

for 10, 15 minutes.

Suddenly...

everything feels okay.

The cold upgrades the brain because you're getting this flood of chemicals

every time you immerse in that cold water.

Your whole body comes alive.

And then, as your body adapts, it just becomes easier and easier.

And eventually...

after about a year...

you start to crave the cold.

What's so amazing about this environment

is you're in a three-dimensional forest,

and you can jump off the top and go wherever you want.

You're flying, basically.

You might as well be on another planet.

You naturally just get more relaxed in the water.

You get to be able to hold your breath for longer.

Having a scuba t*nk in a thick kelp forest

is not optimal for me.

I want to be more like an amphibious animal.

Instinctively, I knew not to wear a wet suit.

If you really wanna get close to...

an environment like this,

it helps tremendously to have no barrier to that environment.

And I suddenly realized I've got energy to take images and film again...

and then picked up my camera again

and started doing the thing I love and what I know.

The animals are extremely exotic and strange.

It's, like, much more extreme than our maddest science fiction.

I remember that day when it all started.

I found this very, very special area

that is protected with a big piece of kelp forest,

'cause the forest itself actually dampens the swell.

And the whole forest around there

is absolutely murky, and you can't see a thing.

And in this little 200-meter patch, you can dive

and observe.

And it's an incredible place.

And I remember there was this strange shape to my left

and just going down...

and seeing this really strange thing.

The fish even seemed to be confused.

And then, suddenly...

At the time, I didn't know

I'd witnessed something extraordinary.

I'd come in at the end of a whole drama.

You think, "What on earth is this animal doing?"

And I think she was a little bit afraid of me,

so she lifted this incredibly slippery...

piece of algae that you can hardly hold with your hands

and just wrapped it in this extraordinary cloak around her

and then stared at me out of the little gap.

And then, boom, you know, she was gone.

It's a hard thing to explain,

but sometimes you just get a feeling,

and you know

there's-- there's something to this creature that's very unusual.

There's something to learn here.

There's something special about her.

And then I had this crazy idea.

What happens if I just went every day?

What happens if I... I never missed a day?

And, initially, she was clearly being affected by my presence,

so I thought, "I'll leave the camera there,

and then that will record her going about her business."

She sees this shiny new thing in the forest.

Coming at it with a shield,

just in case it att*cked, and put up the shield.

This is something different. This is interesting.

Touching it, feeling it, tasting it.

If she was in a playful mood, you couldn't leave it there for too long.

She'd just pull the thing over.

It took going in every day to really get to know her environment better.

Initially, it all just seems like much of the same thing.

But then, after a while, you see all the different types of the forest.

You get the old-growth forest.

You get the forest with a lot of different algae growing in the bottom.

You get the misty forest.

As I started to map the environment around her den,

it was shocking to see small caves really close to her,

packed with pyjama sharks.

And they really are her most serious predator.

Their skin is striped. That's why they're called a pyjama shark.

They're not visual predators.

But they have an incredible sense of smell.

And they are particularly aggressive.

They can shove their noses into a small cr*ck.

So they are deadly little octopus predators.

And I was thinking, "Well, how long before something happens with these animals?"

After visiting her more and more and more,

there was a definite moment where...

that fear had subsided tremendously.

She'd see big movement,

and she'd be slightly afraid and then look, "Oh, it's him."

And she'd come out and be very curious.

Very interested, very curious, but not taking stupid chances.

Keeping all the other arms attached to the den

and the suckers in place.

And then it just happens.

I put my hand out a tiny bit.

Something happens when that animal makes contact.

But, at some point, you're gonna have to breathe.

So you've got to very gently

prize off those suckers

without disturbing her,

so that you can actually go up and take a breath.

By far the most powerful

is when it comes out the den

because that's when you know there's full trust.

There's no holding the arms back just in case I have to pull back.

It's like, "I totally trust this human,

and I'm coming out of the den,

and I'm gonna go about my business."

I started to see pretty extraordinary things.

They can look spiky. They can look smooth.

Grow horns on their heads.

They can match color, texture, pattern, skin.

It's beautiful.

Most of the time, she's jetting or crawling or swimming.

But occasionally,

two legs come out.

She walks.

And off she goes, striding away,

walking bipedally.

She puts her body into this strange posture that kind of looks like a rock.

And then two of those arms underneath slowly moving,

so the rock is just slowly moving away.

And then she changes

into this extraordinary, wobbly, flowy old lady in a dress.

Perhaps she's trying to mimic

kelp or algae moving in the swell...

and, at the same time, is slowly moving away.

And this is how she works.

This incredible creativity to deceive.

An octopus is essentially a snail that's lost its shell in evolution.

A very fragile, liquid, soft animal

that relies on tremendous intelligence.

She's got no mother or father to teach her anything. She's alone.

'Cause you've got all these different types of predators, all hunting her.

So, over millions of years, she's had to...

come up with the most incredible methods to deceive them.

And she's got to learn fast because

she's only got just over a year to live.

When you're diving alone, everything about my kit has to be perfect.

And I've gotta be prepared for all eventualities.

I can't be fiddling around. It's gotta be instinctive.

But, at that point, I was making a lot of mistakes.

One day, she was following me.

And that's the most incredible thing, is to be followed by an octopus.

You know, you're just backing away, moving backwards,

and this incredible animal is coming towards you.

And there's not a lot of fear in it at all.

It's curious, and there's trust,

and it's like this fantastic feeling.

And then, bam!

I dropped one of my lenses,

and that thing falling quickly just startles that animal.

And then it turns and rushes, and it's got a huge fright.

And you just... you wanna kick yourself, because it's, you know...

That could have ended in the most incredible interaction and deep trust,

and you've ruined it.

Now, you know, have you ruined it forever?

Uh, is that animal ever gonna trust you?

Has that... has that experience freaked it out too much?

And then I approached her too fast.

And that's when she left the den and got a real fright...

and didn't come back to that den.

And I thought this was over.

She was gone.

I'd had this experience with these incredible San master trackers.

I just thought, "I wonder if anybody could ever track anything underwater?"

This animal has spent millions of years learning to be impossible to find.

I had to learn what octopus tracks looked like.

And that was very frustrating at first, so difficult to discern.

What's the difference between octopus tracks

and heart urchin tracks

and fish tracks...

and worm tracks?

And the predation marks.

The egg casings.

I needed to learn everything.

And then you have to start thinking...

like an octopus.

It's like being a detective.

And you just slowly get all your clues together.

And then I started to...

make breakthroughs.

"Okay, those are the animals she's k*lling."

So I'm looking at kills. I'm looking at little marks, diggings in the sand,

little changes in the algal patterns where she's been moving.

And then knowing, "Okay, this animal is very close now.

It's close. It's within one or two meters."

And then focusing on that small space.

And then, bang!

She's there.

Finally, after looking for her for a week, day after day,

there she was.

It's like a...

a human friend, like, waving and saying, "Hi, I'm excited to see you."

And I could feel it, like from one minute to the next,

"Okay, I trust you. I trust you, human.

And now you can come into my octopus world."

And she's moving towards me.

And my natural instinct is...

to gently back away.

And then I just wanted to keep still, so I held onto a rock.

She just kept coming...

and then covered my whole hand.

I'd been underwater for quite a long time,

so I just gently pushed for the surface, thinking she would move off my hand.

But she didn't. She just rode on my hand right to the surface.

There I was, just staring into the eyes of this incredible creature.

It was difficult to imagine at first

that she was getting anything out of the relationship.

Why would a wild animal, doing its thing,

get anything out of this

strange human creature visiting?

And this is where it gets interesting.

I think quite stimulating for that huge intelligence.

Somehow, she realizes this thing is not dangerous,

so you go and you interact with this human.

And perhaps it does give you some strange octopus level of joy.

When you have that connection with an animal

and have those experiences, it's absolutely mind-blowing.

There's no greater feeling on earth.

The boundaries between her and I seemed to dissolve.

Just the pure magnificence of her.

All I could do at the time was just think of her.

In the water and on land.

I mean, it just became a bit of an obsession.

You just want to visit her every day and see what's going on.

You can't wait to get back in the water.

What goes through her mind? What's she thinking?

Does she dream? If she dreams, what does she dream about?

She just ignited my curiosity in a way that I had not experienced before.

It's very useful to come back home

and try and read as many scientific papers as possible.

She's a common octopus.

Octopus vulgaris is the scientific name.

Two-thirds of her cognition

is actually outside of her brain, in her arms.

Her entire being is thinking, feeling, exploring.

She's got 2,000 suckers, and she's using all of them independently.

How do you do that?

Imagine having 2,000 fingers.

You can compare her intelligence to a cat or a dog

or even to one of the lower primates.

A mollusk shouldn't be this intelligent.

So many times I'd go and search through the scientific papers,

looking for the strange thing I'd seen.

And then you'd just come up absolutely blank. There's nothing.

You're going into a place that's under-studied,

and, almost on a weekly basis, you can find out something new to science.

According to the literature, octopus are supposed to be a nocturnal species.

Now, was she more active at night?

It was a little bit scary in the dark.

These incredible sounds of the humpback whales

coming through the water.

You're on hyperalert.

I couldn't find her. She wasn't in her den.

I'd kind of given up and was going back to the shore.

Something just made me veer slightly to the left.

And there she is...

right in extremely shallow water.

Can't see what she's doing.

These lightning-fast strikes.

Using her arm like this strange w*apon.

Just rolling it up in this fraction of a second.

And I saw her catch three fish like this.

I'd never seen her catching a fish during the day.

Super dangerous out in the deeper forest at night,

so this incredibly clever animal retreats to the shallows,

where it's difficult for these sharks to get to,

and takes advantage of all the wonderful food available there.

The first instinct is to try and scare the sharks away.

But then you realize

that you'd be interfering with the whole process of the forest.

She was out of the den, moving around near the edge of the forest.

I noticed...

the shark.

Body was slightly hunched forward and was following the scent trail.

This is not good.

I think, "Thank God she's safe. She's right under the rock."

These things are coming right into that cr*ck.

And the next minute, the shark is actually clamped down on one of her arms,

doing this terrifying death roll.

And I can clearly see...

her severed arm in its mouth.

You had that terrible feeling in your stomach.

And thank God she managed to get really deep in that cr*ck.

She was moving very badly, slowly, very weak.

She's bleeding. That smell's in the water.

There's quite a distance to the den.

Are these sharks gonna pitch up again?

I thought about helping her back physically to the den.

But, luckily, I didn't need to.

I didn't know...

what was gonna happen to her or if this would make her weak and vulnerable,

and they'd finish her off that night.

And I couldn't help feeling...

had I been responsible for this?

Was she out because I was there?

I felt very vulnerable.

As if somehow what happened to her had happened to me in some strange way.

And then this almost felt, psychologically, like I was...

going through a type of dismembering.

You start thinking about your own death and your own vulnerability,

worried about your family, your child.

I hadn't been a person that was overly sentimental towards animals before.

I realized I was changing.

She was teaching me to become sensitized to the other.

Especially wild creatures.

A scary feeling, going into the water early the next day.

I was very relieved that she was alive, breathing.

She's so weak that she can't make those vibrant colors of a healthy octopus,

and she's just dull and white.

And now I'm worried, "How is she getting food?"

You are crossing a line

when you interfere in the lives of animals.

But I was just too overcome

with my feelings for her.

I don't think it really helped.

And she's right at the back of the den, you know, just not moving much.

I was just checking every day to see if she was okay,

wondering, "Is this the last day? Am I not gonna see her?"

The big relief came a week or so later,

and I could see it had sort of healed over pretty fast.

And then the most amazing thing, to see this...

tiny little miniature, perfect miniature arm...

starting to grow back.

And it gave me a strange sort of confidence

that she can get past this incredible difficulty.

And I felt, in my life, I was getting past the difficulties I had.

In this strange way, our lives were mirroring each other.

My relationship with people, with humans was changing.

My son, at this stage, was very interested in everything underwater.

And every day, I'd tell him the stories.

He'd seen her. He'd met her.

I'd taken him so many times.

The arm becomes pretty functional,

even when it's half grown.

And then, slowly, as the arm grew, she grew her confidence back.

Eventually, about 100 days later, that arm had fully regrown.

An amazing feeling to think that this animal is capable of that

and can withstand such an att*ck and fully recover.

After a while, she was just carrying on with her normal activities,

so I then started a whole new development

of seeing even deeper into her world.

It was a nice, calm, clear day.

She comes around a corner and spots a crab.

The problem when you're a crab,

you're being now hunted by a liquid animal.

She can pour herself through a tiny little cr*ck.

And the crab seems to sense her

and goes and hides underneath a big, poisonous anemone.

And then she waits and hides.

And then the crab thinks, "Okay, everything's all right,"

and makes the mistake of leaving that anemone.

She's quite a messy eater.

Bits going everywhere. The smell's going out.

And then you just look around, and you see these brittle stars,

surprisingly fast, just being drawn to her.

Just a mass of them sort of overwhelm her,

and she doesn't seem sure of what to do or how to deal with them.

So I thought, "Yeah, this is like a real problem now.

She's always gonna have this problem of brittle stars taking all her food."

Not that long in the future,

she's thought, "Okay, brittle stars are stealing my food,"

and has this amazing method of just picking them up with her suckers

and gently just throwing them out the den.

Now she's completely the boss.

She initially adopted the same method to crab hunting with lobster.

You just suddenly see...

lobsters just sh**ting out of the reef.

I'm thinking now, "She's definitely gonna catch this one."

Time and time again, they just evade her.

And then, a couple of weeks later,

watching her coming round the side,

corralling me so that

she can then get between the lobster and myself.

Using me as part of her hunting strategy.

And instead of that messy lunge...

throwing her web over the top.

And then there's nowhere for it to go.

This is an animal that is strategizing

and working out very quickly how best to hunt a very tricky prey.

A lot of her intelligence is built

from the sheer number of prey that she has to catch.

All sorts of animals.

All the mollusks she is capturing, they're quite easy to catch,

but they've got these incredibly hard shells.

Now, how the hell does she k*ll and eat them?

At the base of all those arms,

there's a drill that can drill through hard shell

and then drop venom in there, like a snake,

and see how that mollusk reacts.

But some of these mollusks will only relax

if that drill is precisely in the apex of the shell,

on the abductor muscle.

She basically has to do geometry

to work out exactly the precise spot where she needs to drill that shell

in order to get her food.

This is high-level invertebrate intelligence.

Her ability to learn and remember details.

And it h*t me how she was teaching me so much.

You just can't wait to get up in the morning, 'cause there's so much to do

to understand every little tiny mark,

every little behavior,

every species and what they're doing, how they're interacting.

People ask, "Why are you going to the same place every day?"

But that's when you see the subtle differences.

And that's when you get to know the wild.

So when these thousands of threads going off from the octopus

to all the other animals, predator and prey,

and then this incredible forest,

um, just nurturing all of this.

And now I know how the helmet shell is connected to the urchin

and how the octopus is connected to the helmet shell.

And as I draw all these lines,

all these stories are just being thrown up.

It's almost like the forest mind.

I really could feel it. That big creature.

It was thousands of times more awake and intelligent than I am.

This is like a giant underwater brain operating over millions of years.

And it just keeps everything in balance.

Everything seemed, at this point...

sort of perfect in the forest.

And, of course, you know...

...you've forgotten...

those predators are ever present.

Just have this...

burnt in my memory, this, like, huge shark just suddenly approaching her.

She kept still and tried to hide.

Then you just saw the shark swimming on the periphery, picking up her scent.

And I thought, "Oh, no, this is this whole...

nightmare happening again."

She jets up in the canopy,

and she's wrapping many leaves of kelp tightly around her body

and then just peering out.

All the smell's on the kelp,

so the shark's now biting and snapping at the kelp.

She's sh*t out the back.

She just climbs out over a rock, leaves the water, and I was like...

I just, you know... almost can't believe my eyes.

But the problem is, of course, she's gotta come back.

On the other side, the shark picks up her scent again.

And this crazy chase is on.

And then, I see her,

in a very quick movement,

picking up maybe close to 100 shells and stones...

and then folding her arms

over her vulnerable head.

And in that moment,

I realized, "This is this crazy thing I saw...

so long ago."

Next minute, the shark grabs her.

But I had to breathe.

Rush to the surface as fast as you can.

Straight back down again.

And it's like, "Okay, now, this is too crazy."

Somehow she's managed to maneuver herself into the least dangerous place,

and that's on the shark's back.

The shark tries to shake her off and is swimming away.

Takes a few seconds to figure out,

"What the hell's going on here?"

But you can immediately tell

she's now got the upper hand.

As the shark goes near some of the thick kelp...

she just pushes off the back...

drops the remaining shells

and jets away.

And the shark, it's just been completely outwitted.

The shark comes, does one pass,

but she's completely safe. There's nothing it can do.

And it leaves.

How she can think that quickly and make those life-and-death decisions,

uh, it's just, yeah, pretty, pretty incredible.

I was around for a good 80 percent of her life.

Each moment is so precious because it's so short.

There was this one incredible day.

A big shoal of dream fish.

Fairly shallow water.

Suddenly, she's...

reaching up for the surface like that.

Initially, I thought...

"She's hunting the fish."

Then I was like, "Hold on.

When she hunts, she's strategic, and she's like...

focused.

This behavior doesn't feel predatory to me."

It took a long time to actually, like, process it.

But I couldn't help thinking,

"She's playing with the fish."

You see play often in social animals.

Here's a highly antisocial animal playing with fish.

It takes that animal to a different level.

Oh, then she completely lost interest in the fish,

rushed over...

grabbed hold of me.

And that was the last time we had physical contact.

If I think back,

and I remember it was a very rough day, very turbulent.

Sediment everywhere.

Go down and whoa,

there's another big octopus right next to her.

It's very, very rare to see two octopus close together.

"Oh, my God, what's going on?"

And then seeing that both animals are pretty relaxed

and realizing, "Okay, and then the mating is beginning."

By this stage, I knew quite well the stages of an octopus's life.

So while I was very excited that this mating was beginning,

there was a sort of...

this dread in the bottom of my stomach.

She wasn't coming out of that den.

There was no more feeding, no more hunting.

A huge part of her body is actually given to those eggs.

So she drops in weight, and she loses an enormous amount of strength.

The eggs are laid right in the back, in the dark.

It's impossible to see them.

I just keep going every day and just check.

She's oxygenating the eggs with her siphon, looking after them.

She's just slowly dying

and timing her death exactly for the hatching of those eggs.

I mean, it struck home so hard for me.

Here's an invertebrate, essentially a mollusk,

sacrificing her own life

for her young.

All those eggs hatched.

They're tiny, and they go into the water column.

Hundreds of thousands of them.

And the next thing I saw, she's washed out the den, barely alive.

And the fish, you know, feeding on her.

A lot of the scavengers coming to feed on her.

It was just heartbreaking.

A part of me just wanted to hold her and chase them away.

But I didn't do that.

The next day...

a big shark came...

and just took her away, you know, into the misty forest.

Often, I go to the place of her main den.

And I just float above it and feel her there.

Of course I miss her.

Um...

But, um...

I mean, in some crazy way, it was a relief.

It was a relief, because the intensity of going every day and tracking her, um...

and trying to capture, it was...

It was tough in a way.

I mean, I sort of slept, dreamt...

this animal.

I was... You know, I was...

in my mind, thinking like an octopus.

And... and it was all so taxing, in a way.

Um...

But underneath that,

this incredible pride for this animal

that's been through impossible odds to get to this place.

I mean, an unimaginable life.

One of the most exciting things ever in my life, taking my son,

walking along the shore

and just showing him the... the wonders of nature

and the details

and the intricacies.

I was getting so much from the wild, and I could actually now give.

I had so much energy to give back.

He's like a little marine biologist now. He knows so much.

And very powerful swimmer.

And as he gets older, he seems to want to do it more and more.

To see that develop,

a strong sense of himself...

an incredible confidence,

but the most important thing,

a gentleness.

And I think that's the thing

that thousands of hours in nature can teach a child.

A few months later, after she'd d*ed,

he actually found this tiny little octopus.

It's very rare to see an animal that small.

They have up to half a million young. A handful survive.

So it's a pretty tough road they have to walk.

But that's their strategy, live fast and die young.

We kind of imagined that it might be one of her young.

It was kind of the right size, the right time.

And it was joyous. It was like, "Well, there she is."

She'd made me realize

just how precious wild places are.

You go into that water...

and it's extremely liberating.

All your...

worries and problems and life drama just dissolve.

You slowly start to care about all the animals,

even the tiniest little animals.

You realize that every one is very important.

To sense how vulnerable these wild animals' lives are,

and actually, then how vulnerable all our lives on this planet are.

My relationship with the sea forest and its creatures deepens...

week after month after year after year.

You're in touch with this wild place, and it's speaking to you.

Its language is visible.

I fell in love with her

but also with that amazing wildness that she represented

and... and how that changed me.

What she taught me was to feel...

that you're part of this place, not a visitor.

That's a huge difference."

#charlie the phone guy #charlie the cursed phone guy #dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #classic verse #very long post #long post #this is your fault anon #you wanted him to read a script #YOU GOT THAT WISH #IT JUST AIN'T BEE MOVIE

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upthenorthmountain · 2 years

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One nice thing about drawing the same character over and over is that it lets you see your progress. I feel like I’ve made a fair amount!

When I drew that first picture in September 2014 I was 32 years old. I’d always wanted to be able to draw, but just never got round to it or knew how to get started. Like a lot of people, fandom is what inspired me and gave me the push I needed. It’s the most amazing feeling to be able to draw now, to be able to get down what’s in my head, to make things I love and am proud of. I know I still have a lot to learn but that’s where the fun is!

If you’re one of those people always thinking ‘wow I wish I could draw’, here is how I did it:

I worked through the book You Can Draw in 30 Days by Mark Kistler, which a friend recommended to me (if I'd known then about the book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards I'd have used that too, but I didn't. It's good though)

I filled up a couple of sketchbooks with terrible drawings, mainly figure studies from quickposes.com and bad drawings of my blorbos

Finally thought I had something good enough to post, posted it, received so much support and love that I carried on, and I honestly cannot thank all of you enough for that

Kept drawing and drawing, making myself do the things that were hard or that I thought were above my skill level (harsh truth: you will never get better at the hands if you don't draw the hands)

After a little while I thought 'I wonder if I can use my iPad as a drawing tablet', and started using the Procreate app (then about £4, now about £10 I think, still a flipping bargain), first with my finger, then with a stylus that came with my iPad case, then with a slightly better stylus I bought on eBay, then two years ago I got a better iPad and could have a Pencil which is AMAZING

I have also recently taken two Procreate courses on Domestika which taught me a lot of things about drawing in general and Procreate in particular and I should probably have sought this information out sooner! They were Atmospheric Scenes in Procreate: Paint with Color and Light by Ramona Wultschner, and Female Character Portraits in Procreate, by Natalia Dias, and I would recommend them both

And I kept drawing a whole bunch and my friends were super encouraging so I just kept going and didn't stop

I have tips! Things I've learnt along the way

If you use Procreate, look up and learn about clipping masks, alpha lock, streamline, liquify, Gaussian blur

Don't worry too much about brushes, I mainly just use the hard and soft airbrushes and two versions of round marker (one with low streamline for sketching and one with high streamline for line art). I have a spotty one for freckles and that's about it really for what I use 99% of the time. People will try and sell you brushes by making you think you'll be able to draw like them if you have the right brushes but you won't and you don't want to draw like them anyway, you want to draw like YOU

Use more layers than you think you'll need, you can always merge them later

You will suck at first. You will suck so bad you will want to cry. But you have to be terrible, it's the only way to get to not terrible. The only way you STAY terrible is if you give up

Just when everything seems awful and everything you draw is crap and you don't ever want to draw again, that is when you must KEEP GOING and PUSH THROUGH because you are about to level up. Persevere just a little bit longer and soon you will be staring at your own hands thinking 'HOW'

Drawing is a learnt skill. There is no such thing as Talent, just people who've spent longer learning and practicing than you have. Eight years ago I couldn't reverse park my car, either, and then I got a new job where it was really handy to be able to reverse park in the car park and now I'm really good at it. You can improve at anything if you're willing to put in the time! GROWTH MINDSET!!

#my art #drawing improvement #learning to draw #artists on tumblr #artblr #YOU CAN DO IT I BELIEVE IN YOU

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romanceandshenanigans · 1 year

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Regency Romance Update: August 30, 2023

Okay! I think I got it figured out.

Cross dressing sub plot? Gone.

Running away from home? Gone.

This plot is now blackmail free baby! We're taking the theme of societal expectations being the route of all evil by the horns and letting it ride.

Juliana and Finn met in London a year after her brother's death. Finn was performing some Shakespeare, along with the acting company he is apart of to advertise an up coming production which Juliana happened to catch. Through a series of misunderstandings Finn thinks she is the maid servant to her friend Gwen. Juliana allows him to believes this and keeps up the lie as they exchange letters and moments through the course of the season. Unfortunately, Finn figures out she lied to him about her identity and decides to break it off, knowing there was no way in hell her family was ever going to approve of him.

Cut to eight years later, Juliana's father is now dead and her the estate has transferred to a distant cousin and/or uncle. She and her mother haven't been turned fro the house, but it's only a matter of time. Luckily, Lord Henry Ellington, an old friend of her brother's, proposed to Juliana and they're set to marry by the end of the month.

For the first time in years Juliana returns to London just in time for Finn to do the same. He's spent time traveling and improving on his writing to which Thomas Ellington, Lord Ellington's younger brother, has taken notice. Thomas is determined to make Finn the talk of London and bring him to the same ball Juliana happens to be attending.

Shenanigans Ensue.

There. I fixed it. Not nearly as convoluted. Still debating if I want to use flashbacks or not. I do think they can be really impactful if placed right, but we'll see. Bottom line though, we're keeping the conflict internal. It works better for the story anyway.

I'm feeling a lot better about this one. I still gotta work out a proper outline, but I've got a much clearer picture of it now, especially the ending.

And here is an obligatory snippet for your trouble.

“Where is Thomas?” Juliana asked.

“Late, but that’s not exactly a surprise,” Henry said with a resignation reserved for eldest siblings. “He insisted on bringing entertainment. No doubt he and his latest beneficiary got caught up in the preparations.”

A small smile touched Juliana’s lips. She knew Henry considered Thomas’ exploits exhausting, but she found them endearing. He always had some new "project", as he called it. Some painter or singer or sculpture that Thomas swore he would make the toast of London. They were always startlingly talented, devastatingly handsome, and endlessly fascinating. Even if the lords and ladies of upper society swore they would not allow such riff-raff into their homes, Thomas would find a way. He, and by extension they, were just too interesting to ignore.

She squeezed Henry’s arm in reassurance. “I’m sure he’ll not make too much of it for your sake."

tag list below the cut

@clairelsonao3, @auroramagpie

#writeblr #wip: untitled regency romance #regency romance #romance #original writing #snippet #author update #writers on tumblr #original romance #thomas ellington #henry ellington #juliana hamilton

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liminalmemories21 · 2 years

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ao3 wrapped: 5, 6, 12, 29 and 30 :)

#5 - What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

A Conversation in Eight Acts (+ an encore)

I kind of felt like I was retreading a lot of ground that had been trod before, and didn't expect that kind of response. I wrote it because I had the scene after the farmer's market stuck in my head, and then had to write the rest of the fic to give it a place to go.

#6 - Favorite title you used

Ever - stitched with its color (answered here)

This year - You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens - because it feels so very on point for TK and how he got from New York and Alex to Austin and Carlos.

#12 - How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

8 maybe? If we're talking things that have graduated to having a google docs file. More than that if we're talking snippets of dialogue or scene setting that only exists in my email draft folder because I don't want to forget them, but I haven't figured out where they're going yet.

#29 - Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Technically answered here. But after I posted, I thought of like seven other things I could also have answered. So, one of the alternate answers is from A Conversation in Eight Acts (+ an encore), because Carlos is just so angry and hurt and wants to bury it and pretend it's not there and TK doesn't let him.

He looks at TK helplessly, “What do you want me to say? That I spent two weeks making the spiciest food I could think of because I knew you’d hate it? That I picked sand colored towels because you always bitch about how that’s a non-color, and then I took them back because seeing them in the morning made me think about you and how you were supposed to be here picking out towels with me? How Mateo made Paul and I go see Spiderman with him, and I spent the entire time wanting to ask him how you were, if you ever said anything about me? That I went to a bar one night and almost went home with the guy who was flirting with me, and then snuck out the back because I couldn’t do it and couldn’t explain to him why I wasn’t interested?”

TK flinches, but looks at him steadily. “Yes.” There’s a beat of quiet where his words just echo in the loft, and then TK says, “Was he hot?”

Carlos waves the hand holding the knife in exasperation, looks at what he’s doing and puts the knife down carefully. “Yes? What does it matter? He wasn’t you.”

#30 - Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Answered here - and answer has not changed, still that I wrote sex (more than once!) that doesn't make me cringe. I've spent a lot of years reading explicit fanfic and being wildly spoiled by extraordinarily well written sex, and trying to figure out how to write it in a way that doesn't feel clunky and formulaic has been very [ahem] hard.

#ao3 wrapped #ask me things #fic #tarlos #thanks for asking

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breitweisergallery · 2 years

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hi, so i want to ask how you study your characters when ur writing about them. How you think of niche little details to add depth to your characters? Bcs I've read your Gahan fics and the absolute way you ADD so many little things to Yohan, WHO btw is already such a fleshed out character but you manage to manage to make him even MORE thought out & im just curious how u think of them?

The first part of it is that I have a degree in writing and spent a LOT of time in college doing exercises that involved looking at the weirdest details of your life and figuring out how to build that outwards.

But when it comes to specific stories, a lot of it is looking at themes and building on what already exists. Yohan is a book-lover, we know this from canon. Building outwards for his books (since I always go to literature), I do spend a lot of time for nearly every fic figuring out what his top 5 or top 10 books are for that specific fic. Because Yohan will be very different if he's a cut-throat lawyer in prison for a murder he may or may not have committed than if he's a YA fantasy novelist.

Some of it comes from acting. I have a very extensive background in acting and it's the little things that build a character - nervous habits, body language, conscious or otherwise, it very much builds a person. I mimic a lot of what I write as I write (which is why I don't love writing in public), but I will sit there and move my hands and feet until I figure out what body language makes the most sense for what they're trying to convey.

And then some of it is just practice. Examples below the cut.

To give an example of the sort of thing I do, I'll start by describing the things on my desk currently.

A coffee mug. Several bowls of food finished to varying degrees. My to-do list. A candle. A thing full of pens that are nearly identical. My wallet.

Then, expanding out on that in a little more detail. Why are things there? When were they last used?

The desk is a mess of things used often. Various bowls are lined up on the side of the desk, with snacks finished to varying degrees. Most notably is the bowl of cereal barely touched, closest to the occupied chair. Though the mug of coffee next to it, labeled Boston, seems to be mostly full, the stain at the lip of the mug suggests a full cup of coffee has already been drank, that perhaps it is the second cup of the day. The to-do list, pink in color, has eight things on it, four of which are crossed off and finished. It does not escape notice that the academic work is all that remains.

That goes from just a list to building out a character (me) and gives you a lot of information from what started as just a list.

I do that with characters, a lot. For example, pulling from a fic I never published in which Yohan grew up with his mother:

Kang Yohan is unlike anyone Gaon has met in his life.

Kang Yohan smiles easily and warmly; lines in his face, creases worn deep, indicate he has always been this way. There’s a lightness in his step, a drama in his movements, that only further indicates a playful nature. His clothes, though not expensive, are never creased, a carefulness about his appearance contrasted by his hair, ruffled and not-quite-messy with tints of red in the dark brown that are only visible in the sunlight.

Kang Yohan lives in an apartment. The apartment is small and homey and reminds Gaon of his own home. Chosen, not for any special reason beyond a simple reminder of what home once was, and what home will continue to be. A tiny kitchen because “eomma could barely cook and she taught me absolutely nothing.” A full-sized mattress without a frame on the floor of the loft overlooking countless bookcases and two desks, one of which is covered in books and papers, the other so despairingly empty that Gaon can feel the ache in his chest before Yohan glances at it and says, offhandedly, “that’s my mother's.”

Kang Yohan speaks with a bit of dialect in his voice, inherited from years of echoing his mother. It thickens when he echoes things she once said, and he’s never quite able to fully get rid of it when he speaks, the cadence familiar and comfortable to him.

All of this was the opening to the fic in question, because it immediately built such a different character from the Yohan we know, but you're still able to see the similarities and to mark the differences. It establishes a person pretty quickly.

Pulling from a fic I have published, let's look at voices stolen and people borrowed.

The customer always comes in with messy hair, in a hoodie and ripped jeans and boots that Gaon only places as brand name after the fourth time he sees the man. He buys an energy drink, a packaged meal, and whatever the brand of fruit snacks in the far left corner of the store are called, as many of the fruit snacks as he can fit into his pocket. He pays in cash and never speaks. Gaon notices, the same time he recognizes the brand of shoe that he wears, that the man has earbuds in, hidden underneath the shagginess of his hair. It takes another week before Gaon catches a glimpse of the man’s phone- the newest model Android- and he realises that the man isn’t listening to music, but rather, an audiobook.

Right off the bat, I had known I wanted Yohan to be a bit of an emo kid. I knew he had studied abroad, America in the early 00s, and I knew that I was going to establish him as a fan of Green Day. So that played a lot into his appearance. He wears comfortable stuff in a punk-esque fashion, but he's still rich. He still wears brand name things.

He works overnight in this au, so he comes in getting off of his shift at about 2am, and he buys an energy drink ( to fuel him for his drive home), a packaged meal (because he's hungry), and fruit snacks (because this Yohan is childish and fruit snacks are delicious). He buys a lot of them because it gives Gaon a reason to remember him, and Yohan is nursing a bit of a crush. He pays in cash because his name is on his card.

He doesn't wear wired headphones because he always breaks them - a fact that was cut from the story but was in a scene at one point - and he uses an Android because I feel like Yohan is the type of guy to die on the hill that he won't ever use Apple. And he's listening to an audiobook instead of listening to music - another detail that was cut, is that he's listening to his own book.

This is the introduction you get to Yohan in this story, and it immediately sets up this base layer for who Yohan is going to be. You can make assumptions already, and it gives me, the author, something to build off of with the assumptions as well.

#rambled a lot but i fucking love writing and talking about writing #took answers #it's so long i'm so sorry #the devil judge #fic stuffs #i'm literally always so excited to talk about writing

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redwineconversation · 2 years

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Sarah Bouhaddi RMC Sports Interview

As I've said before, Bouhaddi and Lyon had a very complicated relationship even before Endler. She constantly made noises about wanting to leave so Lyon would look at other goalkeepers and so she would make noise about wanting to leave ... When she made the decision to go play in the US, Lyon finally broke free of the toxicity, and then when Bouhaddi came back she acted like Lyon was supposed to have put their ambitions on hold without her. Lyon is hardly a club without flaws but they do have enough self-respect to never cave to one player. Rules are rules.

Anyway, interview below.

BOUHADDI SPEAKS UP AFTER HER DEPARTURE FROM OL TO PSG: "I HAVE NOT DRAWN A LINE OVER THE FRENCH NATIONAL TEAM"

RMC SPORT Exclusive - After 13 years spent at Lyon (2009 - 2022) and eight Champions League trophies in hand, Sarah Bouhaddi left the Rhone for PSG. It's her first time speaking up since her arrival in Paris. The end of her Lyon story, her relations with Corinne Diacre with the French National Team (149 caps), the level of women's football in France ... No subject is off-limits.

It's your first time speaking up since you changed clubs. Let's go back to the start of your journey to PSG. Why did you choose PSG?

The Parisian sunshine! No, no I'm kidding. First of all, like everybody knows, I had gone to the United States to have a new challenge, which I found enormously satisfying. I was delighted. My return to Lyon did not happen like I could have imagined in terms of an elite athlete and competitor. Game time was reduced, even limited. The few times I could play, it was because of injuries. This didn't suit me at all as a competitor. I really felt that the door was closed in terms of the staff [changing their mind]. I wanted for the season to end with Lyon to see what I would do the following year, because I was still under contract with Olympique Lyonnais. Really quickly the coach called me to tell me the situation would say the same, knowing that I was sometimes the third choice goalkeeper, sometimes second choice. Knowing me that wasn't acceptable.

The discussions I had with my agent, it was to see if I was going to stay at Lyon and be okay with how others could be to be on bench and just receive a salary or look for another challenge which would fall in in life with what you want as an elite athlete. There was something very important in my decision: I had to stay in France for family reasons. There was the offer from PSG. It remains a high level club who always plays for the top places in the French league, who wants to win this Champions League. Those were in line with my expectations as an elite athlete, that's why I accepted. Finally, having seen Gérard Prêcheur sign with Paris Saint-Germain, who coached me when I was 14 [Gérard Prêcheur was head coach at the youth academy at Clairefontaine], that made things easier. Having a coach who knows me and is capable of giving me direction, that was an important criteria.

This end of the story with OL, did it make you sad?

Yes it's sad, but those are things that happen at the high level. I took a risk going to the US and leaving my place [as starter] to other goalkeepers. We were obviously going to replace me and that's normal. The saddest thing, it's that the departure happened a little bit, how to say this, like a thief in the night. Because I left from one day to the next from Lyon. I did not say goodbye to my teammates, to the fans, even to the president. When you have spent so many years at a club and have given so much, that was the hardest thing. But as I said, that's just sports at the top level. One day you are there, the next you are gone. I had the chance to play with really great players who thanked me and sent messages. It was really touching. After that, even for a small reunion, a little goodbye party to say goodbye to the directors and those who work around us [eg ground staff], that's very important.

It wasn't possible for you to finish your career under those conditions?

It wasn't even a question of being on the bench. It was to know whether there was the option to compete [for a starting spot]. As soon as June they called me to say that the next season there would be no competition and that option to compete [for a starting spot] was off the table. Why would I be hitting a wall month after month knowing I deserve something else and better? PSG is an elite club, it's not a default choice, it's also a choice I felt strongly about. I'm happy to be here.

Are you still after wins and titles?

Yes, I still want to win titles, that won't be easy. But I really want to go win titles be it in the league, the Coupe de France, or even the Champions League. The first match in the Champions League against Häcken, hearing the music did me a lot of good. To be back on the field, that makes me happy. I'm trying to find my footing little by little and settle in bit by bit. I try to bring to the maximum my experience, be it to the directors or to the players, because I have lived through a lot. That's what I was trying to bring to the team. Some, I go after because they're laughing, I try and bring rigor on a daily basis, that's how you go win titles.

Is this the last challenge of your carrier?

I have no idea. Today, I am 36 years old, I live it day by day. It's how I perform that will dictate my future. I'm not going to stay on the field just to be on the field, I want to perform well and bring something to the group, that's what will guide me bit by bit.

This season, can the PSG win all three competitions?

We can see in terms of the French league it's really close between the first three teams [Lyon - 25 points; PSG - 23 points; Paris FC - 18 points]. There are no easy games, all the teams are struggling to win more than 3-0 or 4-0. It's good for the league to have closer matches like that. The Champions League and Coupe de France, those are achievable if you get past the group stage. You can to believe, work for it. It's the collective which is our strength. We have a young team, some are discovering the top level and the collective strength which you need to have, and the staff, that's going to be very important.

What are your views on the level of the French league compared to other European leagues?

Other nations are investing a lot in the development of women's football, stadiums are filling up, there is a fair amount of publicity. We need to use that to develop our football here. I don't think we're falling behind. Now, there are some good questions that need to be asked so we are level with these other teams. You also have to look at the calendar, the game time. When you are playing at 7pm and you want to come with your family, it's not easy. It doesn't matter if it's during the week, or Sunday afternoon or Sunday night. There are people high up in the Federation, in the clubs, who have to have these conversations. But I don't think it's up to me, as an athlete, to have that conversation.

What stood out for you in your experience in the US?

Over there, the league consists of teams being equal from the first team to the bottom team. All the great players go there to have a homogenous league [news to Hegerberg I guess]. The year I was there, it was one of the most competitive years. We may need to consider how to introduce parity to our league. Today, it's like this: the big players are all at PSG and Olympique lyonnais. The small teams, as the saying goes, fight to stay up in the league. Something needs to be put in place to help the day-to-day of those teams. Be it that they become professional, that they can make a living in this discipline. They shouldn't have to get up in the morning and say to themselves: "this evening, I have training." I experience that myself at Juvisy and I know it's not easy [Bouhaddi played there before being offered a pro contract with Lyon]. Something needs to be put in place so things become progressively more professional. In the US, it's a culture, a desire to market these [sporting] events. There also needs to be the time and means to do that. We see it whether it's with the French National Team, Lyon or PSG: when there are big clashes, the public shows up.

March 4, 2020, that's the date of your last call-up with France. Do you miss the national team?

Obviously. Wearing the national French jersey, when you are French and a competitive athlete, it's what there is best. Now, I made a choice which matters to me and which was important for my personal and even physical integrity, because I had gotten to a sensitive point with the staff and the coach. As soon as I set foot on the pitch, I need to feel there is 100 percent confidence in me. That's what I have always said. This confidence didn't go both ways, and it fell apart after the World Cup. I'll say it again: with Corinne Diacre, there were no problems prior to the World Cup. During the months and years together, the relations were peaceful. It fell apart afterwards and that's a shame.

People parroted Amandine Henry's interview. Me, I don't regret it, but I would maybe have done some things differently. The manner was perhaps a bit controversial, but I think that when we did it, we were at the end of our rope. It's difficult psychologically and we felt we only had that option. It's a shame. It's been almost two years since I've been in the French National Team and I think it's a shame that, since then, we haven't even been able to talk to try and find middle ground. That I get a call-up or not, it's a choice. But I think it's a shame to leave it on a disagreement.

Have you given up on playing for the French National Team?

I have not given up on the French National Team. I'll repeat it: the day I get called up to the French National Team, it's because they have 100 percent trust in me and believe in me. If tomorrow Corinne Diacre calls me up with her staff and tells me "we want a fresh start, and we have faith in you", there will talks. And I will be ready to listen. But if there's no trust in me and they just want me for the results I will give them on the field, I will not bring anything to the team. Trust is so important to me and it's a very important principle.

Have you tried reaching out to Corinne Diacre?

To be honest, reach out on the phone, no. I sent a message to Corinne Diacre when I got back from the US in October 2021. I didn't receive a response. It's a choice she made. Maybe she felt it wasn't necessary to talk with me, I accept that. Today, I do my job at Paris Saint-Germain, I try to be productive. If one day she wants to talk with me and we'll go in the same direction, it'll happen. If she feels today that it is not necessary, I'll wait...

Can the French National Team be World Champions next summer?

From what I hear today from the French National Team, it's that Corinne [Diacre] has evolved, the staff has evolved. The atmosphere is completely different from what we knew during the World Cup. It's been two years now since I haven't been with the national team, so I can't speak about what is going on internally. I hope that the French National Team wins a title because that's what is missing for this country to go be competitive with other leagues. What is important is what is happening on that grass rectangle. What happens outside of it, that's not important.

#sarah bouhaddi #all good love stories start in the rain #every good love story has a villain

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kifu · 2 years

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I finally, FINALLY got another amber in the nestbox out of my near six year-old lynx doe, and I was SO excited! I was going to pull a Code of Development for amber until my Mini Rex started their strike. It's not necessary now that I have it from a couple sources that the NMRRC fast tracked amber, but that's also not supposed to be public knowledge for some reason? Idc. But like, amber has been my fruit of labor for eight years now and I have one and a half in my barn. The half is just broken and five years old.

But that lynx doe massacred her litter today. Just ... bunny parts ... blood ... all over the cage. I killed her. She could have raised up this litter and retired in less than two months, living to a ripe old age. But she did what no rabbit has ever done to me before. Sure, I've seen chewed on newborns. But after three days? Never.

This doe was ... so nice. Gorgeous. Wideband. And she still managed to accumulate two legs (because judges don't know how lynx works, because a wide band lynx is 100% a DQ) because she was just that typey.

I don't regret killing her, but I'm not doing okay. I have one lynx left in the barn. Her daughter. Never produced a litter in two years of living. Dirty girl, too.

Wait, I lied. Vicious is a lynx, too, and comes from a vast history of my rabbits. I never showed her, but I mistake her for an opal a lot because of her color. Not a dark DQ-able under color (imo), but not bright white either. Vicious made a litter after two years of trying. I have a lilac otter out of her.

But like ... I had two Mini Rex litters make it to weaning age this year. Three hold backs that i need to narrow to two. I had ZERO Mini Rex litters last year. My Mini Rex are not okay - and LYNX Mini Rex is what got me started in showing.

I just killed one of my best rabbits - and I should kill a lot more. I'm down to eight Mini Rex brood does. Eight. Just eight. I try to focus on four varieties: amber, black, chocolate, and lynx. You can't work on that with eight brood does, especially when six of them won't even lift for the buck.

Well, Reputa is due for the beginning of October. We'll see how she does. Because I'm so attached to this breed ... and it hates me now. Amber is finally going to show on the tables next year and I'll never produce anything to show. Because Reputa's litter will be otters and selfs, black and chocolate at least. Pimp, her sire, doesn't carry dilute but Venli, her dam, did. I don't want otter ... I want amber again.

#I don't even have any rabbit friends to rant to about this shit anymore #so using myself and words to myself as a sounding board is about my only option #it's just so fucking frustrating when you're watching everything blow apart around you and you're at a complete loss as to how to fix it #I don't WANT to try and start all over again #I want to use the lines I've spent eight years working on #the lines that were on the fast track to my ideal Mini Rex #rabbits like mine don't exist anywhere outside of my barn because I worked on such specific things #and most breeders don't seem to care about those things anymore I swear #anyway I need to stop ranting and submit my entries for the show this weekend #a show I'm not even looking forward to but w/e

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burgundybmw · 2 years

Text

Munson's Mixtape

Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cunningham!Reader

Word Count: 2,842

Warnings: Mentions of sex (no smut), Drug use (weed).

Summary: Chrissy has been acting weird, and like a good big sister Y/N drives to Hawkins from Notre Dame to check in on her. Only to find out she has plans to meet up with Eddie Munson. Things take a turn for the worse and now Y/N gets wrapped in to the horrors of Hawkins. Hey, at least she has the company of the guitarist she was sweet on back in high school for comfort.

Author’s Note: I spent way too much time looking at the Eddie hands picture... y'all know the one. Got a bit carried away.

Also this is super fluffy, wanted to give y'all a break from the angst train. Enjoy!

Track Eight

Y/N woke up bright and early the next day, the morning sun blazing through the boathouse lake entrance. Eddie was still sound asleep laying on the floor next to the hammock. They managed to throw some cushions from old outdoor furniture on the ground so Eddie would be more comfortable. He said he didn't mind the floor as it was, but Y/N didn't want to make this whole experience worse for him because he couldn't sleep at night. Her hard work paid off though, he was out like a light.

She turned over from her spot on the hammock so she could get a better look at him. He looked serene in his sleep, not a trace of fear or anxiety on his face. His long brown hair surrounded his head like a halo, full pouty lips open slightly as he slept. One arm was underneath his head over the pillow, the other on top of his chest. Y/N took a moment to look at the rings on his fingers. They were big and heavy, felt cool to the touch when he held her hand. Eddie had nice hands. His nails were clean and filed, with a few calluses on the tips of each finger, probably from years of playing guitar. His fingers were long too, she never noticed that before. He could reach so many places with hands like his...

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Y/N looked up to see Eddie's smug face staring back at her. She'd been caught.

"I was looking at your rings." She admitted. It was the easier truth to tell. A girl admiring someone's jewelry isn't suspicious, nearly salivating over a man's fingers on the other hand...

"Oh these babies? I've had them for ages. Want a better look?" She swore he was teasing her now, but she wasn't one to back down from a challenge.

"Sure." She reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to her. Eddie grunted at the sudden force of movement, Y/N was much stronger than she looked. She laid down on her back in the hammock, gently swinging back and forth, Eddie's hand close to her face for inspection.

She took her time looking at all of the little details on Eddie's hand. How the pig ring on his middle finger had some tarnish on the snout, that the faded blue ink from a quick note he wrote down rose and fell on top of his veins, how thick his fingers were. She gently traced the length of each digit between two of her fingers, memorizing the feel of them. When Y/N was done she flipped his hand to look at his palm, how each line overlapped. She took her own hand and gently spread each of her fingers to follow the shape of his hand, barely touching it, only her very tips brushed his skin. She could see the small hairs at the edge of his wrist rise with her touch.

Eddie thought his heart was going to stop beating at any moment. No one had ever touched him so gently before, like he was something precious. He used his hands for many things. Playing guitar, shaking dice, writing in his notebook, giving pleasure and pain when asked. Not this tender intimacy he was experiencing now. When he had random hookups he always did his job of caring for them after, cleaning up any mess or giving them a glass of water, whatever they needed in the moment. They never stayed with him passed that though, once the deed was done. No one wanted to spend the night.

It was always casual, and he didn't fault them for it, most of the time. He understood that he was their secret, whether it was for the sake of their reputation or safety. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Eddie craved the intimacy, he wished someone would stay with him throughout the night. Wake up the next morning in each others arms, touching each other in ways that didn't have to give way to carnal desires. The first time he experienced that was when he woke up next to the girl who was currently cradling his hand. He never wanted her to stop touching him.

"Gonna give me a palm reading or something lil witch?" Y/N giggled but didn't let go of his hand, content with tracing all of the fine lines and calluses.

"Lil witch? Where'd you come up with that one Eds?" Eds. Christ all mighty.

"Well, Lady Carnelian is a sorcerer, and a witch isn't a far cry from that. Plus you're feeling up my hand like you're about to tell me my future. Now tell me oh wise one, is there a vast fortune beyond the horizon? A lover waiting for me? Danger in the midst of our adventure?" Y/N felt the heat rush to her face. Lover, oh god. A shiver ran down her spine, but it wasn't from the cool spring air. Was that what this feeling was? Was she falling in love with Eddie? No, it was too soon for that. Not love, but something close to it.

That spark from before was ignited, smoldering into a steady flame. For years she tried to snuff it out, remove the oxygen and let it suffocate. It was always there though, would never fully die out. There was always something about Eddie that wouldn't leave her head, hibernating in the back of her mind. The past two years felt like a never ending winter, but it was springtime now. She focused on school and cheer, made friends, dated a bit. But with all of the men she dated she was always looking for something. There was always something wrong about them. Not the right personality, sense of humor, wrong hair, wrong eyes, wrong lips, wrong hands. Always something wrong. She realized now that she was looking for Eddie in those men. Probably had been since high school, Christ, maybe since junior high. He was always there, but she would never allow herself to look. Now she was looking, and she couldn't stop looking.

"Oh yes Eddie, I can see your future indeed." One of Maya's DnD friends was into divination. She talked about palmistry, astrology, and tarot cards a lot. Y/N thought it was interesting and talked about it with her before campaigns. She didn't know how accurate her reading was going to be, but she'd give it a shot. She began by tracing the deepest line in at the top of his palm.

"This is your heart line, see how it starts at the index finger? It means you have been in love for a long time, or will love someone for a long time. There are little lines surrounding it, meaning you've had other lovers before, but they don't hold a candle to this person." She then traced the curved line by his thumb, this one wasn't as clear.

"This is your life line, see the little circle in the middle there? That means at some point you have gotten hurt, or will be hurt in the future, so beware. Like you said at the campaign, there's no shame in running." Eddie snorted, but couldn't help but feel a bit worried. With everything going on, that little circle felt more like an omen than just a shape in his skin.

"See this line here? That's the head line. It has a big arc, which means you're a creative person, but this wave towards the beginning means you get distracted easily."

"You didn't need to read my palm for that one Y/N, you did tutor me for half a year." Y/N shushed him, she wasn't done yet. Lastly, she traced the lines going down the center of his palm.

"These are your fate lines, see how it's broken up? Big changes will happen in your future. Events will take place that will alter the course of your life, so keep a look out for that." Y/N finally let go of Eddie's hand, and she couldn't help but miss it.

"Well that doesn't sound good." Well, half of it didn't. The first part was definitely true.

"It's not an exact science, so take it with a grain of salt. I only know the basics because of someone I met at DnD." Eddie nodded, and decided to get up from his spot on the floor.

"Well shit you've could have told me that before nearly giving me a heart attack. O' beware Great Eddie The Banished! Imminent danger is afoot!" His arms are waving around like he's the Ghost of Christmas Past, prancing around the room like he did in the woods with Chrissy.

"I did not sound like that!" Y/N protested. She got up from the hammock and started to put everything away for the day, covering the evidence with a tarp in case they had to make a quick get away.

"Yea, you kind of did. But all is well, I do have a great and powerful witch by my side. My fair Lady Carnelian. You'll protect me from the big bads won't ya sweetheart?" Eddie was in the boat now, legs straddling seat, black tin box in front of him. He opened up the tin to roll another joint. Eddie still had plenty left, but they needed to ration it out. There wasn't much to do sitting around in a shabby boathouse, so burning one down always sounded like a good idea.

"Sure Eds, Little old me will surely protect you from all the big bads. Maybe I'll fight them with my pom poms or scare them away with a peppy cheer yell." Y/N walked over to the boat and sat on the other bench. She watched him carefully roll the joint between his fingers, licking the seam and gently pressing it clean. It shouldn't have been as mesmerizing as it was.

"I don't know, those cheers can be pretty terrifying. What's that one you guys did at the championship game our senior year? When we went against Christian Academy?" Eddie lit the joint and placed it in his mouth, taking a hit before passing it to Y/N.

"Do you mean the one we did at Half Time?" Y/N took a hit herself and passed it back.

"Yea that one, scared me right out of my boots. Do you still know it?" Y/N laughed and nodded. Then she got out of the boat, her cheer skirt swishing back and forth as she walked. She grabbed some old newspapers that were in the corner of the boathouse and started scrunching them up.

"What are you doing Y/N?" Eddie took another hit, he flicked some of the ash into the other half of the broken bottle he used as a makeshift weapon.

"I'm gonna scare you out of your boots." She kept scrunching the paper together, fluffing up some of the ends. Holy shit she was making pom poms. Eddie took another hit, he wasn't high enough for this.

Once Y/N was satisfied with the shape of the paper she walked towards Eddie, but gave a few feet of distance so she wouldn't accidentally kick him in the face. Then she began to yell.

"Tigers fans up in the stands yell goooooo Tigers!"

"Go Tigers." Eddie wasn't one for school spirit, he only went to a few games throughout his high school years. That stopped completely when Y/N graduated, but he humored her now.

"Tigers fans up in the stand yell beat those Cougars!"

"Beat them Cougars!" He got a little more into it then, didn't want her to feel like he was disinterested. He was definitely interested.

"One more time show your spirit fans, let's hear it, Goooo Tigers beat those Cougars!" She ruffled her paper pom poms in front of her, before holding her fist in the air.

"Beat those Cougars!" Eddie laughed, and took another hit of the joint. God what was his life now?

"Hey, hey. it's time to fight. Everybody yell: orange, green, and white! Yell it, orange, green, and white! Hey hey let's do it again, Everybody yell go fight to win! Yell it, go fight to win! Let's get physical, get rough, get tough, get mean, Let's get physical and roll right over that team!" She was doing the whole routine: arms waving, high kicking, pom pom shaking, the whole nine yards.

"Tigers let's do it, don't let it fall, We've got that spirit yea! We want it all! Hey go Tigers! Hey beat Cougars! We are the Tigers 'n we live in by the trees. 'N if u don't believe us, then watch us on our knees!" Y/N fell to her knees, her pom poms waving in the air. The sight was forever burned behind Eddie's eyelids.

"H-O-T-T-O-G-O! Tigers team is hot to go, Say whoop hot to go, say whoop hot to go! G-O! Let's go Tigers! G-O! Let's go!" Y/N was jumping and cheering, a blinding smile on her face. Eddie wasn't scared out of his boots, but his pulse was definitely racing at the end of all that.

"A superb performance. I'm certain if Vecna showed his ugly mug right now he'd be running for the hills." Y/N giggled and dropped her paper pom poms on the ground. She took her seat in the boat and reached for the near spent joint in Eddie's hand. She took a hit and ashed the roach on the boathouse floor.

"Oh big time. Vecna doesn't know who he's messing with." Eddie really wanted to believe that.

"Now I can rest easy knowing my fate lies in your lovely pom pom filled hands." Y/N wanted to believe that too.

They spent the rest of the morning talking about what they'd been up to for the past two years. How college was going for Y/N, how Eddie was certain he'd finally graduate. 1986, it was Eddie's year. It was fun, learning about each other. Y/N found herself forgetting about the reason they were both stuck in this boat house in the first place, that was until Eddie heard something outside.

"Hide." Eddie covered Y/N with the tarp on the boat, the sharp end of the broken beer bottle firmly in his hand again. He walked over to the window to investigate what he heard. The loud bang of the front door opening scared them both.

"Jesus!" Eddie yelled.

"Delivery service!" That was Dustin's voice. Y/N sighed in relief and lifted the tarp off of her.

"We have to come up with a secret knock or code word or something. You gotta stop scaring the shit out of me every time you guys come by." Eddie groaned as he made his way over to the boat. He plopped down next to Y/N, his hands rubbing against his face.

"We'll leave you a Walkie Talkie and give you updates. Sound good?" Dustin said as he handed them the food and snacks they brought.

"Yea that'll work." Eddie opened up the box of Honeycomb cereal and started shoving it in his mouth. Y/N grabbed a box of pop tarts for herself, they were brown sugar cinnamon flavor. Her mother never kept pop tarts in the house growing up, and she never thought to buy them for herself when she moved out for college. She undid the wrapper and took a bite, and nearly cried from how good it tasted. Y/N had barely eaten anything for the past few days, and she got sick yesterday, the tiny frosted square was like ambrosia to her.

"Did you guys manage to grab my cassette tape?" Y/N asked between bites.

"Yea its right here. I also grabbed your bag, didn't know if you needed anything from there too." Steve handed her the backpack. She unzipped it to find the well loved cassette tap gently placed on top, her walkman and other belongings deeper inside the bag. She noticed a new box of tampons and wet wipes in the bag as well, she looked up to see Steve pointedly avoiding her face.

"I ugh, asked Robin to get those. Didn't know when, or if you were... you know. I thought, just in case." Robin rolled her eyes and looked at Y/N with a shrug. Boys.

"Thanks Steve, I appreciate it. Who knows how long we'll be hiding out here for, good thinking." Y/N zipped up her bag and returned to her pop tart. Eddie looked between her and Steve, clueless to what they were talking about.

"So... Any word from the outside world?" Eddie asked, popping open a bottle of Yoo-hoo. He guzzled half of it down in one shot, some of the chocolate liquid spilling out the sides of his mouth. Y/N saw it slowly trickle down towards his chin. She licked her thumb and wiped his jaw clean, then she brought her thumb to her mouth and sucked off the excess. Eddie watched her do it, and he nearly choked.

"So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news..."

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helloalycia · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Lifetime – Five // Wanda Maximoff

chapter four | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter six

author’s note: dying of cramps but didn’t wanna leave y’all hanging, so enjoy! x

Taking Wanda to Blackpool was something I couldn't stop thinking about for the past three days.

I kept telling myself that I had to remain calm, not make her feel uncomfortable with my obvious attraction to her, and to give her the best day out considering she'd never been before. It wasn't anything more than a girl spending time with her soon-to-be sister-in-law, and I had to keep reminding myself that whenever I'd feel a stir of desire in my chest at the thought her pretty smile or intoxicating gaze.

My family were thrilled when they heard of my plans with Wanda. My parents were glad I was actually making an effort to get on with her, whilst my brother was excited I was becoming 'best friends', as he put it, with his fiancé. That one stung a little, the guilt pricking my insides, but I convinced myself that that was exactly what I was doing. It wasn't wrong if I didn't think of Wanda in any way but what she was. Right?

The weekend came around quickly enough, and on Saturday morning, I met with Wanda at the train station where she waiting for me with an enthusiastic smile.

"I brought my watercolours and sketchbook so I can paint what's there," she explained as we boarded the train. "I also bought a lot of pencils in case some snap. I'm gonna draw everything I see so I don't forget a single thing."

We slid into our seats and I smiled with admiration as she continued to ramble about all of the things she wanted to do today. She looked so lively when she spoke, her hands moving about frantically to express her excitement, and her lips permanently etched into a smile when she wittered on. I didn't mean to stare, but God, she looked beautiful.

"Thank you again for doing this," she finished, head turning to mine.

Now, I'd read and written many clichés of someone falling for someone else, particularly the moment they knew they were too far gone. It was hard to believe if they were true depictions of liking someone, but I liked reading and writing them.

It was now that I learnt that they were no exaggeration, for when she looked my way with a beaming smile and glowing green eyes, I knew it was too late. There was no going back for my attraction to Wanda.

"No need to thank me," I spoke slowly, surprised I could speak at all since she'd knocked the breath from my lungs. "I'm glad you're excited."

The journey was a few hours long and we made conversation the whole way. It was the longest I'd spent alone with her since meeting her and I was intrigued by everything she had to say, hanging onto every word with all of my attention. If that wasn't enough, her accent only made everything she said sound so much better. She was naturally soft-spoken, but syllables rolled off her tongue in a silky, raspy way with her accent entwined in her words. I loved it.

At one point, the topic of our families came up and I felt like my brother came up in almost every conversation I'd had with anyone who discussed family, so I took this as my opportunity to get to know hers instead.

"What's it like to have a twin?" I asked, leaning on my elbow as I watched her attentively.

She mirrored my action playfully, though answered my question. "It's just like having a normal sibling, except they're way more annoying."

I smiled, imaging just how annoying Pietro could be as a sibling.

"I love Pietro, but he's very frustrating at times," she spoke with a hint of endearment. "He constantly throws it in my face that's he's older than me by twelve minutes. As if that makes a difference."

A chuckle flew from my lips as she pouted at her own words.

"But he's also my best friend," she said with a sigh, like that fact was irritating in itself. "He knows me better than anyone and he's the easiest person for me to talk to. I don't have to hide anything from him." She paused, glancing upwards in thought. "Well, almost anything."

Pursing my lips, I wondered what she meant as she mumbled the last part, but didn't question it. Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"So, you and your family moved to England when you were kids, right?" I tried to recall what my parents had told me of them. "From Sokovia."

"Yes, we were about..." She scrunched up her nose as she tried to remember. "Eight years old, I think?"

"Wow, that's young," I realised.

She hummed in agreement, smile fading as her eyes fell to her hands. "Yeah... I don't remember much, but there was a lot of unrest at the time. A war. It was dangerous for everyone and my parents were lucky to get us out when they did."

I frowned, knowing some of this already, but it was sadder to hear when it was coming from Wanda herself.

"Our extended family didn't make it out," she continued to explain, voice quieter. "I didn't know them much, my parents' siblings, so it's not that sad for me. Pietro, too. But it's strange to think, you know? Especially when all of your family are around with this wedding and–" She sighed, shaking her head and looking to me with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."

I straightened up, reassuring her instantly. "Wanda, you don't need to apologise. It's okay. I... I didn't know any of that. I'm glad you told me."

She nodded, though the regret was still present in her gaze.

"I'm sorry all of that happened," I expressed honestly, not looking away. "But I'm glad you're here, if it makes a difference. You– your family are good people."

A small, appreciative smile graced her lips. "Thank you."

I shrugged, trying to brush it off so she wouldn't notice the heat rising up my neck. "It's nothing... so Sokovia. You speak Russian and English. That's pretty bloody cool."

She laughed wholeheartedly and any hint of sadness disappeared from her face, reassuring me completely. I didn't like to see her sad, especially when there was nothing I could do to make her feel better that I knew of.

"I promise to teach you some Russian today," she said with amusement. "A few words, just to diversify your vocabulary."

"Gee, thanks."

Another laugh escaped her and I chewed on my lip to contain my grin. I could get used to that sound.

—

When we reached Blackpool, Wanda was radiating with excitement. We couldn't make it two steps anywhere before she whipped out her sketchbook and began to sketch. She wasn't kidding when she said she was going to capture everything she saw.

I was patient, since the reason we came was for her, and watched as she worked. It was cute, seeing her concentrate and trying to stop dancing around with excitement every time I showed her something new.

We walked along the promenade and dipped in and out of the shops, looking at the gifts and clothes they sold. We bought a few things to commemorate the trip, but then Wanda was quick to drag me back outside so she could sketch the view of the beach from where we were stood. The grin on her face was convincing enough for me to let her drag me wherever she wanted. She looked so happy and I didn't care about anything else.

Eventually, around lunchtime, we headed to a café to have a break from all the excitement. Or rather, a break from running around. For Wanda, it was a better opportunity to sit still and sketch some more.

"So, you're drinking what, Y/N?" she asked, not looking up from her sketches as she worked.

I looked at my tea and lowered the cup. "Er, tea?"

"In Russian," she instructed.

"Oh." I cleared my throat, remembering what she taught me earlier. "Chay."

"And what's in the chay?" she asked, lifting her eyes to meet mine patiently. "The milk?"

"Moloko," I remembered, and the proud smile on her face reassured me I was correct. My shoulders relaxed as I returned her smile. "Thanks."

"You're a natural," she assured me, before looking back to her sketchbook. "I only taught you the words. You remembered it yourself. And before you know it, ty budesh' govorit' polnymi predlozheniyami na russkom."

My mouth opened with confusion, not knowing what she said. She seemed to realise as she chuckled at my expression.

"Never mind, milaya (darling)," she said with humoured eyes, before resuming her sketching.

I breathed out, taking another sip of my tea before grabbing a fork to dig into my pasta. As I chewed, I watched Wanda move her pencil effortlessly, creating lines that somehow resulted in a perfect drawing of the horizon.

"Do you only draw and paint landscapes?" I asked curiously.

"I can do portraits, too," she answered with a nod, glancing at me. "But they're never as good."

I gave her a knowing look. "I doubt that."

She merely smiled in response, eyes meeting mine for a moment, before shaking her head with amusement and looking back to her sketches. I chuckled, leaving her to it as I enjoyed my lunch and read the newspaper.

It was nice to just sit and enjoy each other's company as we did our own thing. I'd occasionally glance up to see Wanda focused on her drawing and smile, allowing myself to appreciate the sight, before looking back down to the paper and enjoying my pasta.

By the time I finished my food, as had Wanda, she straightened up and tore a page from her sketchbook. The noise pulled me from my reading and I looked up to see her holding the paper towards me.

I quirked a brow, but she simply shook the paper, signalling for me to take it. With confusion, I took it and became speechless when I saw what she'd drawn. It was me reading the paper, the exact view she must have had from being sat opposite me. It looked exactly like me, probably better since I knew I didn't look that good, and I was amazed at her talent all over again.

"You did this just now?" I asked with disbelief, looking up at her.

She shrugged and distracted herself with her pencil. "Yeah, it's not much. It's not my specialty."

I scoffed. "You're kidding. Wanda, this is amazing!"

Bashful smile on her lips, she glanced up at me. "Maybe it's the best portrait I've done. But I think that's down to my subject."

Even when she was embarrassed, she was still capable of turning the tables on me, leaving me a flustered mess. It was like her superpower. A very annoyingly cute superpower.

"That's what you look like y'know," she continued, nodding to the paper in my hand. "When you're focused on reading. You chew your lip with thought. And you get this little crease–" she pointed between her brows with a laugh, "–right here, and you seem to forget that anything else exists."

A sweet smile spread on her face as she tilted her head, watching me with intimidating eyes, very much aware of the effect her words had on me.

"You're very observant," I said, trying not to stutter, her gaze making me nervous. "Perfect skill for an artist."

She hummed in agreement, though didn't look away. "Mere artistic observation, right?"

My heart was hammering in her chest the longer she stared, especially when her words dawned on me. I'd said the exact same thing after she confronted me about picking her ring. I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

Just like the first time I saw her, I was at a loss for words and couldn't look away. She was compelling, beautiful and remarkable all at once.

—

"Nebo," I said, hoping it was the correct word for 'sky' in Russian, as Wanda had taught me.

She grinned. "Yes! And horizon?"

I pulled a face as I thought carefully. "Er...gorizont?"

"The student is soon to become the master," she said, and I rolled my eyes, knowing that was anything but the truth. I appreciated her encouragement though.

"Okay, before we head to the beach, we have to buy some rock," I told her, leading her to the stall on the promenade. "I got it last time and it's so good."

She furrowed her brows. "What's that?"

I smiled at her expression. "It's a sweet. Kind of like boiled sugar that's formed into a stick of, well, rock."

She didn't seem convinced. "If you say it's good, I trust you, I guess..."

I laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her to the stall. "You'll love it."

After getting two sticks of rock for Wanda and I, we began to walk to the sand. I glanced at the brunette, wanting to see her reaction. She eyed the hard candy before attempting to bite it, a small piece breaking off at the top. Crunching on it, she scrunched her nose up.

"It's hard," she noted, swallowing the piece. "Tasty, though."

"It's better if you suck on it, love," I let her know with a hidden smile. "Tastes much better."

She did as I said, beginning to suck on the top, and seemed to enjoy it more. Giving me a thumbs up as she sucked it, I couldn't help but laugh again. She looked adorable, so I left her to it and did the same as we walked along the sand and towards the benches in the distance.

Like a child experiencing something for the first time, she began to point excitedly at Blackpool Tower and the ferris wheel in the distance and I just kept nodding along, letting her get excited because it made my heart skip a beat every time she flashed me a smile.

When we reached the benches, I was glad that today wasn't a busy day. It wasn't exactly tourist season, so the beach was scarce of anyone but residents of the town. And even then, our side of the beach was pretty empty, giving us first dibs on a bench that wasn't broken or uncomfortable.

Settling on it, Wanda pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged so she could lean on them and pull out her watercolours. I sat beside her and leaned back, inhaling the salty air and exhaling peacefully. I never had much reason to visit here apart from when my parents took my brother and I on the occasional trip, but it was nice to appreciate the sound of the ocean washing over the sand and the seagulls squawking in the sky. A big difference compared to back home.

Another silence formed between us as she painted the water ahead, and I couldn't help but glance her way, watching her pucker her lips with concentration. All she'd wanted was this and I was glad I could finally give it to her.

So she wouldn't notice, I looked away and stared out at the blue expanse of ocean before me. I should have been appreciating its beauty, but all I could think about was how it was no contest to the girl sat beside me.

"I'm really glad you brought me here today," she said out of the blue after a while, "but I wouldn't have said yes if I'd known you would be bored."

I looked to her and saw she was still preoccupied by her painting. "I'm not bored. We came here so you could see the water and find some new subjects to paint. And that's exactly what we're doing."

She sighed, looking up at me with a questioning glance.

Smiling reassuringly, I said, "I like the quiet. And I like watching you work. You look happy. It's good to see."

She tensed her jaw, stifling a smile, but her eyes said it all. She was grateful. Of course, her eyes were also very easy to get lost in, even if she didn't mean for me to. And right now, under the sun, I found myself drowning in pools of blue.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly, a hint of a smile on her face.

Stupidly, I felt compelled to tell her the truth. "I'm thinking about how you have really pretty eyes."

Attempting to make me flustered yet again, her favourite hobby by now I was guessing, she raised a brow teasingly. "Oh, really?"

It didn't bother me this time though, as I maintained eye contact and felt my heart swelling with adoration. "Yes. It's like you hold all the elements in a single gaze."

Her smile faded and that's when I realised what I'd said, my heart dropping to my stomach in an instant. Swallowing hard, I looked away and shook my head. An apology was waiting on the tip of my tongue when she spoke with realisation.

"It was you."

I glanced her way nervously. "What was?"

She was staring like her mind was working something out and I was the missing piece. "The letter that Y/B/N gave me last week. He wrote the exact same thing. What you just said."

My brows knitted together with confusion, then it hit me. The love letter Y/B/N wrote. The one he assured me was for his own eyes. He'd given it to her. And I'd just gone and said the exact thing he'd written on it, no doubt passing it off as is his own words.

"Th–that wasn't me," I got out, shaking my head slowly. "I didn't even know he gave you a letter, Wanda."

She continued to watch me, eyes squinting with scepticism. I swallowed hard under her gaze, trying to think of how I could come back from this. But apparently I didn't have to, because she suddenly leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine.

My mind was foggy when her fingers rested behind my neck, tugging me closer. I closed my eyes, melting at her touch, and began to kiss her back, moving my lips against hers. She was slow and gentle with me, her lips as soft as they looked and sending the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. I could have kissed her forever and been content, but my brain finally caught up to my actions and I reluctantly pulled away, stunned.

Glancing around to make sure nobody saw us – there was literally nobody here – I caught my breath and looked back to Wanda. Her eyes were drawn to my lips before they flickered to meet mine, darkened with desire.

"Why did you do that?" was all I could think to ask, and I was acutely aware of her fingers still grasping my neck, the skin burning where her tips grazed.

She licked her swollen lips, expression softening. "I think I've been falling for the wrong Y/L/N."

My lips pressed together, missing the feeling of hers against them. Never in a million years did I expect her to say something like that. I thought she'd been teasing me this whole time, but now, maybe there was truth to her actions.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked apprehensively.

"What?"

She swallowed. "What you said about my eyes. Did you mean it?"

Well, she'd kissed me, so there was no going back now.

I nodded, noticing the hesitance in her eyes. "Yes... you're beautiful, Wanda."

She didn't say anything and the silence was deafening. I almost wanted to run back home and pretend this never happened, but that was the cowardly side of me. The other side, the disbelieving side, wanted to stay here with her and keep living in this little bubble we'd created.

"Can I kiss you again?" she finally spoke, eyes flickering between mine for confirmation.

Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded slowly, and she didn't waste another second as she leaned in once again. This time, I wasn't so surprised, so I kissed her back quickly, trying not to think about how wrong this was. How I'd been taught that this was wrong. Because I refused to believe this was wrong, that it was a sin, when it felt so damn right.

Wanda felt right.

—

When I got home later that afternoon, I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

Wanda was all that was on my mind. Everything about her was floating around up there – the contagiousness of her smile, the brightness of her eyes, the taste of her lips. When I left this morning, I wasn't expecting to return with– well, I wasn't sure what we were, but we'd decided to give whatever this was a go.

Of course, she was still engaged to my brother, but I tried not to think about that. She made me happy and maybe in a different lifetime we could have been together, but this was the wrong lifetime which meant I'd have to make some wrong decisions, this possibly being one of them.

The guilt was still present, but the adoration I had for Wanda overpowered it. The fact that she actually liked me back was too thrilling for me to even concern myself with the lack of future this relationship would have. I just wanted to enjoy what we had whilst we had it, even if it meant being together in secret.

"So, how did your trip go?" my mum asked me when I returned, looking up from her knitting.

I stifled my grin the best I could. "It was fun. Wanda loved the seaside."

My mother seemed pleased as she smiled my way. "Y/N, that's great. You know, I'm really proud of you for making an effort with her. It means a lot to everyone."

"Mhm."

"She's going to be your sister-in-law after all," she continued knowingly, "so it's good you're spending time with her. Maybe you could do it more."

I hummed in agreement, my heart fluttering at the possibility of spending more time with Wanda. "Yeah, that could be good."

"Go on upstairs, you must be tired from the travelling," she said after a moment, noticing my distant headspace. "I'm glad you had fun today."

Wanda's smile appeared in my mind again, her lips ghosting my own. I sighed contently.

"Me, too."

#wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #marvel #marvel imagine

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

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DIWK - Chapter six: "I don't know everything, despite the fact you think that I do"

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Word count: 12,6K

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of drug use, drug detox, physical violence. Spencer being a jerk.

Summary: (Y/N) had enough of Spencer's attitude and plans an intervention on her own.

A/N: Hello! how are you? how's your week going? my life is a mess and I'm fighting with a lot of anxiety and stress after the month I spent with my grandparents, so I've been taking everything with calm in the latest days. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Spencer is... and then reader... ok, read it, and see you in the comments! Stay safe, kids!!!

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(Y/N)'s point of view

After New Orleans, I thought things were starting to get a little better. For a few days, Spencer was a lot like himself again. It was refreshing and exciting. He smiled. He even looked like he had slept. And he wasn't rude. Not at first. Not until that Friday.

- "Hey, pretty girl"- Morgan appeared next to my desk and tapped on the pile of files I was working on- Got any plans for tonight?

- "I was actually going to meet my boyfriend. Why? What do you have in mind?"

Yes. Paul and I had a date, 'cos I hadn't seen him in two weeks. We had spent San Valentine's apart, 'cos we were out on a case. And I barely noticed it. I didn't have my hopes high for that night, though. Maybe pizza, a movie... I didn't feel like having sex, even when it had been over a month since we had done it.

- "I'm clubbing tonight, and I know you are a party girl. So, do you wanna come with me?"

- "As tempting as it sounds, I pass"- I smiled at my friend and shook my head- "All I can do today is have a quiet evening, eat something, watch a movie and then call it a day."

- "Are you sure? 'cos Emily is on board, and you two are my party sidekicks."- I chuckled and kept shaking my head- "Ok, alright. You lose. What about you, pretty boy?"

Spencer had been awfully quiet that whole afternoon. He was buried in his paperwork and only moved from his seat to get coffee.

- "Reid? are you listening?"- Morgan waved until he got his attention. But Spencer apparently didn't want to talk- "Hello? Earth to Reid."

- "What the hell do you want?"- I brought up my eyes to my best friend, 'cos his voice was as annoyed as rude.

- "Hey, hey, slow down, kid. What's your problem?"

- "I'm trying to work, and you don't let me! That's my problem!"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and took a deep break.

- "Ok, my bad."

Spencer glued his eyes on his files again, and I kept looking at him closely for a minute. He was fidgety on his chair. He kept scratching his arms, and he had flipped from human to whatever he was when he yelled at Morgan in a blink.

Of course, shit wasn't over yet.

- "Hey, do you want a ride home?"- I asked him and stood by his desk on my way out. He was getting ready to leave too.

- "I can take the subway on my own"- he talked to me like I was insulting him- "And I don't wanna get in the way of your fake date,"- he grumbled and put on his coat

- "Sorry, what?"- I wasn't sure I had gotten that right.

- "Yeah, you have a date with your boyfriend, and I don't want to get in the way."

- "What are you talking about, Reid?"- I couldn't believe his words. He was acting like a jerk.

- "You know, I don't get it"- he was mad. Furious. And he snapped in front of me, out of the blue- "Why are you still dating that jerk if you don't even love him? does he fuck you that good?"

I could see from the corner of my eye how every head in the bullpen turned to us. I looked at my best friend in the eyes and didn't say a word. I just nodded and grabbed my purse.

- "Enjoy your weekend, Reid."

I knew I didn't have to take those words personally. Spencer wasn't himself. But I was growing tired of justifying him in front of the team and myself. It was time for the big guns.

I tried to ease my mind that night, preparing myself for what I knew I had to do the next day. But I couldn't shake Reid from my thoughts. I needed to know what he was doing if he had dinner. If he was able to sleep. Shit! I needed to know if he was getting high all alone in his apartment.

What if he overdosed? What if he just decided to go a little further and his body couldn't resist it? He was too skinny. He wasn't eating correctly. Shit! He could die.

- "Hey, babe. Are you ok?"- Paul asked me all of a sudden. He was kissing my neck and trying to get under my shirt, and I wasn't even moving. I was thinking about Reid and how to help him. And meanwhile, my boyfriend was trying to have sex with me.

- "Sorry, what?"- I know, that wasn't a good answer.

- "Are you even here?"- he sighed and let me go- "Let me guess, you are thinking about a case."

- "No, I'm just worried about Reid."

I know. That wasn't a good answer either, considering Paul's angry face as soon as he heard his name. Paul hated Reid. Ok, Paul hated every single one of my friends, but he despised Spencer. He would almost see him as his sworn enemy, and they had seen each other in person twice in over a year.

- "Now you think about that nerd when we are making out?!"

- "What?! No! that's not what I meant!"- I tried to explain, but it was clear that wasn't going to work- "He is going through a tough time after the abduction and..."

- "Yeah, yeah"- he cut me off and stood up- "Everything about Spencer is more important than me! I don't wanna hear that shitty and sad kidnap story again!"

- "I'm just trying to say I am worried about him!"- I stood up and followed him around the apartment.

- "You are always worried about him!"

- "He is my friend. He is in pain!"

- "And what about me?! Do you even care about me?!"

- "Sure! of course, I do!"

I knew that was it all of a sudden. I didn't even want to argue with Paul, and neither explain to him how much I needed to help Reid. So I didn't say a word. I only stood in front of him. He brought up his eyes to me and sighed. It took him a few seconds to gather the courage to say what he wanted to say. But when he did, it wasn't good.

- "You are in love with him, aren't you?"

His question made my blood boil. I hated he made such a presumption only because I was worried about Spencer. I loved him, sure, but because he was my best friend. I was with him all day, every day. I saw him more than my own family. More than Lu, Mikey, or Frank. And I knew Reid was in pain and in real danger. Of course, Spencer was my priority.

- "No, Paul. I am not in love with him."- I looked right into his eyes and tried to make my point clear- "He is going through a shitty situation, and I wanna help him. That's all."

- "And do you love me?"

He had never asked me that before. We haven't talked about "love" in the whole year and a half we had been together. And, to be honest, I didn't want to lie. I didn't want to hurt him either, but it was the end of the line, and we both knew it.

- "Paul..."

- "That's a no,"- he said and folded his arms across his chest- "If you don't love me, why are you with me?"

- "Do you love me?"

- "Of course, I do!"- I raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a second - "Don't profile me!"

- "I'm not profiling you. I'm just sure you don't! And that's ok. Paul, we... This is not a relationship. It's two lonely persons holding onto something that didn't work."

We just stared at each other and didn't say a word for what seemed to be for ages.

- "Despite what you might think, I know you, (Y/N)"- he took a step closer to me and kissed my forehead- "And I know you love him."

- "Paul, I really don't. He is my friend, and I'm worried about him"- he simply nodded and sighed.

- "Sure thing. Take care"- started walking to the door and never looked back.

I stood alone in the middle of my apartment. That was it. The easiest breakup because neither of us was in love. And yet, I felt empty and sad. Tears started falling down my cheeks, and I didn't notice them until I was sobbing.

I wasn't sad I had lost Paul. I didn't understand where that emptiness and misery were coming from. Maybe it was grief for a relationship that was never meant to work. Perhaps I was sad because I had failed to maintain a relationship. After all, work had turned into my life. I was just like my father and my brother.

A part of me felt I was slowly turning into what I had fought not to be. And letting Paul might mean I was no longer the old (Y/N). And the new (Y/N) scared me: I was a Fed, I worked over 50 hours a week, and I had killed people. Bad people, but I had pulled the trigger. I knew I had the job of my dreams, and I knew I loved working at the BAU. But with every day that passed, I was walking further and further away from the version of me I loved.

And I was scared of what the new (Y/N) was going to be like. Was she going to be like her dad and lose her family due to her work? or like her brother? who couldn't have a normal life 'cos being a detective was more significant.

I knew we all made our own personal decisions, but a part of me felt it. We were all cut from the same cloth, and I was meant to grow old, alone, and the BAU was going to be my whole life until the day I retired, and the loneliness consumed me.

- "I need a drink."

Spencer's point of view

I took a cab home. I didn't want to take the subway because it would take longer to get there, and I couldn't wait that long. I needed one more fix.

I had been telling myself the same for a whole week now: Just one more. One last time.

But it never was the last time. Every night I failed, and that Friday, I was so eager to forget, I wasn't thinking straight. I snapped at Morgan and (Y/N), just 'cos I was going insane, craving Dilaudid.

After New Orleans, I decided to stop using it. And for two days, I did it. But, of course, I couldn't handle the need. That needle was going to be my end, and I was struggling every day to quit. It was impossible to stop on my own when I needed to quieten the pain somehow.

You don't know how much pain you are into until you numb yourself, and the weight of all your troubles and regrets is lifted from your chest. I knew it was eating me alive, but I had to be strong and quit. So, every day I tried. And every day, I failed. Just like that night, when I laid in bed and slowly unwrapped my belt from my arm, losing all connection with reality.

I had yelled at my friends, and they were probably angry at me. But shit! It was worth it. Nothing was even relevant as long as I could feel the relief Dilaudid gave me.

But it never lasted. And the following day, I regretted it all. I woke up dressed on my bed, a needle next to me and an empty bottle of Dilaudid by its side. Just like a junkie. Tears filled my arms as soon as I realized what had happened. What I had done: I had failed yet again.

My whole body was shaking. I needed to eat something. My last proper meal had been Thursday when (Y/N) and I stopped for dinner on our way back home. And I guess if it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't have eaten at all.

I took a long shower, trying to wash away the guilt. It's obvious to say it didn't work. But I consoled myself thinking last night had been the last time. That day I was going to be strong enough, and I was going to quit. I had decided. Nothing could stop me that time.

My breakfast was miserable: I made coffee and took a look in my fridge. Nothing. All I ate that morning was a bowl of cereal (without milk) and two cups of coffee and sugar. Sugar and coffee, actually, like everybody teased me.

I tried to read for a while, at a normal peace, because my head was still fuzzy. So I sat in my living room and grabbed a book from my coffee table: "The Illustrated Man."

After a few hours and four books later, my mind kept coming to the same place. I was out of Dilaudid. And it was a good thing, 'cos now I just wasn't going to get any more. That was it. I had officially quit. Yes. And I felt good. It was a new day, and I was ready to be clean and sober. So I made myself another cup of coffee to celebrate and took a look at my bookshelf. I picked another three books and sat on my armchair, ready to keep on reading. I didn't need drugs to be happy.

Around three in the afternoon, I couldn't stop moving on the couch as I read the sixth book of the day. I drank yet another cup of coffee, even when I knew what I really needed was to get some real food. But I didn't care to starve at that moment. There was only one thought in my mind: Getting high.

Maybe I wasn't ready to quit. I should try leaving it periodically. Actually, perhaps having a bottle around the house could help me ease my mind. Knowing it was there made me feel better. As good as using it.

I was going insane. I kept debating whether I should stay home or find my dealer and just get a little dose. Just enough for one more time. Maybe two. I kept walking around my apartment, creating excuses in my head to get high.

And that was when I heard a knock on my door. I stopped on my tracks, confused. I wasn't waiting for anyone, and I wouldn't really have many unannounced visits. So I walked silently towards the door and looked through the peephole.

- "Shit"- my voice was a whisper I prayed (Y/N) hadn't heard.

What was she doing there? Maybe she had come to talk about my attitude at the BAU. I had said some awful things, but that wasn't really a good moment. I didn't want to see her. I didn't want her to see me like this. I didn't want anyone to see me. So I didn't open the door.

But she knocked again. I didn't move and almost didn't breathe as I stood still by the door, waiting for her to leave. But she wasn't leaving. Instead, she kept knocking over and over again, driving me insane until I snapped.

- "What the fuck do you want?!"- I opened the door and yelled at her face. She widened her eyes, surprised, and didn't move.

- "You just came to stand there and look at me?- I shouted, and she flinched. She had to leave. I wanted her out of my house. But rather than leaving, she walked in and stood in the middle of the apartment.

- "What is wrong with you?"- she was making an effort to stay calm, but I could tell she was scared. She kept biting the inner part of her cheeks and crossed her arms on her chest. Was she scared of me?

- "Spencer, why are you acting like this?"

- "What the fuck is your problem, (Y/N)? Why are you in my house uninvited?!"

- "I called you like three times. I wanted to invite you to my house for dinner, but you didn't answer, so I got worried."

- "As you can see, I'm fine! And no, I don't wanna go to your house for dinner!"

Her eyes were wide opened, staring right into mine, and I swear it physically hurt to see her. She shouldn't be there. I needed her out. I didn't want her to see me like that, and I needed to get out and get some more Dilaudid. Now more than ever.

- "I'm making lasagna"- (Y/N) whispered- "Mikey, Frank, and Lu are coming."

- "I don't care, I don't wanna go to your house, I don't wanna go anywhere! I'm fine here."

- "But, honey bunny..."

- "Stop calling me that!! I hate it!! It's a stupid nickname! I'm not your fucking honey bunny!!"

The silence in my apartment was so deep, I could hear my own heart racing inside my chest. (Y/N)'s eyes filled with tears that soon started falling down her cheeks. She dropped her shoulders, and her arms hung at her sides, slacks.

- "Please"- she begged- "Tell me what's wrong. I want to help you, Spencer."

- "There's nothing wrong! don't you get sometimes I don't want to be stuck at you?! I already have to see your face all day at work. I deserve a break during the few weekends we have off!"

- "I know you don't mean that"- her voice broke, and her chin trembled, but she still made her best not to cry.

- "You don't know that. You don't know shit, (Y/N)."

I stayed quiet and looked away from her. I couldn't stare at those sad eyes for another second.

- "Please, leave"- I managed to control my voice for a second, in a poor attempt not to hurt her anymore. But she shook her head and sniffed.

- "No, Spencer, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you. I am worried."

- "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, (Y/N)! Don't you get it?! I just don't wanna be with you!"

- "Please"- she begged, sobbing in front of me. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't bear to see her anymore.

So I ruined everything and hurt her. I pushed her. She nearly fell back but managed to stabilize. She was shocked by my actions, but I didn't even have time to think about what I was doing. All I could think of that minute was that I needed her out of my house to buy drugs and get high.

- "Spencer, what the hell are you doing?"

- "I asked you nicely, but you didn't leave. So now I won't be nice anymore. Get out!!"

I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of my sight. She cried, pleading I would tell her what was wrong with me. But I didn't listen. Instead, I dragged her out of my apartment and slammed the door. I could hear her crying in the hall for a moment, and it enraged me. I thought if she was crying, she herself had caused it. She had appeared at my house at the wrong moment, unannounced.

It wasn't my fault. I just wanted her to leave. I did what I had to do.

And I didn't regret it.

Not until Sunday afternoon, when an announced knock on my door forced me to drag my stoned body from the couch. It was a delivery boy who gave me a package and left. It had nothing written on it. Not even my name. When I opened the box, I found a computer and a note.

- "Play me."

I knew I was still stoned, but not enough to be imagining those kinds of things. I took the laptop to the couch with me. There was a video ready to be played in it. So I pushed play.

- "What the fuck do you want?!"- my heart dropped. It was me, but I could barely recognize my own face- "You just came to stand there and look at me?"

It was a recording of me yelling at (Y/N). She had taped everything, and I couldn't believe my own eyes. I was a monster.

- "I'm making lasagna"- my chin quivered at that scene. Her voice was a whisper, and I was out of myself- "Mikey, Frank, and Lu are coming."

- "I don't care, I don't wanna go to your house, I don't wanna go anywhere! I'm fine here."

- "But honey bunny..."

- "Stop calling me that!! I hate it!! It's a stupid nickname! I'm not your fucking honey bunny!!"

I paused the video, 'cos I couldn't take it anymore. That wasn't me. I couldn't believe I had said all those things to her. It hurt (Y/N), so I could get drugs.

I covered my face with my hands and cried. I was done. Not only did I not know how to recover from my drug addiction, but I also didn't know how I could ever look at my best friend again in the eyes after what I had done.

I remembered she had cried, and I knew I had been mean. But when I saw the extreme hate in each one of my words, I knew I had reached rock bottom. I needed help.

After a few minutes, I pushed play again. I knew I needed to see the whole thing actually to understand what had happened.

- "Please, leave!!"

- "No! Spencer, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong with you. I am worried."

- "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, (Y/N)! Don't you get it! I just don't wanna be with you!!"

- "Please... Spencer, no! What the hell are you doing?"

- "I asked you nicely, but you didn't leave. So now I won't be nice anymore. Get out!!"

I hit her. I pushed her. She was there to invite me for dinner, and I hurt her. Who was I? What kind of beast does such a thing to his best friend?

Who would do such a thing to the woman he loves.

I curled on the couch, crying. How could I let that happen? When did I turn into a downward version of myself? Ethan was right. I had been dumb enough to think I could control it when in reality, drugs were controlling me. I was losing who I was. I could lose my job. I was losing my friends.

I knew things had been hard for me growing up, but I had finally reached a point in my life where I was happy. I liked my life. I loved my job. For once, I had real friends, and I was making good, catching bad guys. I had actually fulfilled my dream to work at the BAU. So why was I wasting it all?

- "Spencer"- I heard (Y/N)'s voice at the end of the video and saw her face on the screen- "I am here if you need to talk. I'm not mad. I just wanna hug you. Please, call me. Let me help you."

But I couldn't do it. I couldn't talk to her after what had happened. I dragged her by the arm out of my apartment. I made her cry. I didn't deserve anything. I couldn't deal with reality and the consequences of the monster I had become into.

Sunday, March 4th. That was the day it all changed for good.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer didn't call. I wasn't surprised, though. I knew he would be affected by the video and probably felt like he didn't deserve my help. So I did what I knew Frank would say I shouldn't do. I put on my shoes and got ready to go to his apartment and pick him up. I was not going to leave him alone when I could see he was struggling to survive.

But when I opened my door, Spencer was sitting in the hall outside my apartment, hugging his legs, shaking. His eyes were puffy, and his lips were shattered. He looked at me, afraid I would be mad. But how could I? I just wanted to help him.

I kneeled in front of him and touched his hands. They were stone cold. His lips trembled as I looked into his eyes, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he finally threw his arms around me, crying.

- "It's ok, honey"- I whispered and felt his whole body shaking as he held me tight- "I've got you."

- "I'm sorry"- I mumbled, sobbing against my shoulder.

- "Shh, it's ok, it's ok"- I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his cheek.

- "Please"- I had to bite my lips not to cry with him, but I knew I had to be strong for him- "Help me."

- "Always."

I poured two cups of tea on my kitchen island as I looked at Spencer eating a bowl of soup. He was swallowing it like he hadn't eaten in days, which was probably true. We had barely spoken in the last hour. He kept asking for forgiveness as I helped him walk into my apartment and sat with him on the couch. He held onto me like a castaway holds to whatever shipwrecks he finds to survive.

When I finally convinced him to eat something, he followed me to the kitchen and looked at me in silence as I cooked. I didn't know what to tell him, so I just did my best to stay calm. I knew what was happening next, and it wasn't going to be pretty. But I was ready to go through it with him.

- "Thank you"- he whispered and sighed as soon as he was finished.

- "Do you want some more?"- but he shook his head. I smiled at him and handed him his cup of herbal tea.

- "Cookies?"- he didn't answer. He just looked at me with those big puppy eyes and broke my heart.

- "I'm sorry"- he spoke so softly I almost didn't hear him.

- "Don't be."

- "I was a monster"- he stared at me, and I knew he was thinking I was never going to forgive him, when the truth was, I wasn't mad at him at all. I was just worried sick.

- "Are you ready to get better?"- I was afraid to ask, 'cos I was afraid he could change his mind. Still, I trusted the video had shaken him deeply enough to erase from his head any thought of relapsing.

- "Yes."

His answer was clear. Even when it was a whisper, there was no hesitation or no fear. Pure determination. It made me smile to hear him like that. And he smiled at me for a second, filling my heart with hope.

- "Ok, then this is what we are doing"- I walked to my desk and took a folder I had prepared for that day. I gave it to him, and he frowned, confused.

- "What is this?"

- "Our home detox plan. You and I are locked in this apartment for the next fifteen days."

Spencer looked at me, baffled. I just smiled and walked to the fridge to show him how prepared I was.

- "I got all the food we need, and the meds you might need, and a nurse that will come to visit daily to put an eye on you."

- "What? How? What about work?"

- "I'll talk to Hotch."

- "What are you gonna tell him?"

- "The truth"

I wasn't going to lie to my boss, not when he also knew what was happening with Reid.

- "Honey, he knows there's something wrong with you, and I'm sure he will understand our absence for two weeks. You and I have enough vacation days saved to cover that time. And you need it."

Spencer looked at me in silence. I couldn't read his face because his eyes hypnotized me. Even under those circumstances, his eyes were beautiful and sweet. Filled with hope.

- "Ok"- he nodded, and I hugged him right away.

- "I'm so proud of you, honey"- I whispered and caressed his hair for a second.- "Come on. We are doing one more thing before we start."

- "What?"

- "Cleaning your apartment."

I took Reid back to his place and got rid of the Dilaudid he had gotten that weekend: All of it. And the needles. I helped him clean because I didn't want him to find a messy apartment when he would get back there. Then, we packed a bag of clean clothes to take to my place. He looked weak but determined to change, which made me feel so relieved. My heart was joyful.

- "Do you have everything?"- I whispered and held his hand as he stood in the middle of the living room and took a look around- "Do you want to take some books?"- he didn't answer- "Spencer? are you ok?"

- "I don't want to be a burden"- he whispered, and I took a deep breath right away, trying to find the right words to convince him he wasn't and that there was no way on earth he could ever be a burden in my life.

- "You are not, I swear"- he looked down and played with his fingers in my hand- "I mean it."

- "It's not going to be nice"

- "I know"

- "And..."

- "And I want to be there, with you, all along. Ok?"- he looked at me, and my heart skipped a beat.

- "(Y/N), withdrawal symptoms from opiates include anxiety, sweating, vomiting, and"- he cleared his throat, embarrassed- "And diarrhea."

- "I know... but we are going to go through this together, one day at the time."

Spencer kept his fingers in my hand, tracing paths on my skin. I looked at him and bit the inside of my cheeks. I didn't want him to doubt himself, 'cos I knew he could do it.

- "One day at the time sounds good"- he murmured and looked at me with a tiny smile. I nodded and kissed his cheek. I don't know why I did it. I just know how much I liked it. The sensation of his skin, and his two days beard, I don't know what it did to me. But I even shivered.

- "Let's go"- I whispered and held his hand tight. He nodded and grabbed his bag. It was about to get real.

The first night with Spencer was wild. He hadn't used it in over a day, and the withdrawal symptoms started around midnight. We were on the couch watching a movie. I was already half asleep when I felt Spencer constantly moving. He started biting his nails and scratching his face every two minutes.

- "Are you ok?"- I whispered and looked at him. He was pale.

- "I'm not gonna be able to do this."

- "Honey..."

- "No, I mean it."

- "You can, and you will."

- "How do you know? I was weak enough to start using."

- "You were forced to start using, and you are strong enough to stop"- I sat straight and held his hands. He was freezing- "What do you say we put you to bed? I'll make you a cup of tea, and we'll see how you feel in the morning."

He didn't move. I kept his hand in mine, and he held it tight. Real tight. I don't know what he was thinking about, but after a few seconds, he sighed and looked at me.

- "Bed and tea sounds nice,"- I nodded and stood up, but he didn't move- "(Y/N)?"

- "Yes?"

- "Where are you going to sleep?"

- "On the couch"- he sighed, and his face was filled with guilt.

- "I can't let you do that. This is your house."

- "Don't worry about that now. Come on. You need to rest"- I caressed his hand with my thumb, and he finally stood up. But halfway to the bedroom, he stopped.

- "I feel so guilty to put you through all this."

- "I want to do this"

- "But..."

- "No, but"- I turned to him and cupped his face with my hands- "I love you, and I'm not gonna leave you alone. No matter what."

My words resonated inside my head for a few seconds as I stared at him. My stomach was fluttering, and my heart was racing inside my chest.

That wasn't good. But I didn't have to overthink my feelings because my best friend needed me.

Reid walked to the bathroom and put on his pajamas while I made him a cup of warm tea. I knew what was coming: nausea, shivering, throwing up, stomach ache, and more. But I was ready. Two weeks and Spencer was going to be ok.

I had talked about my plan with Hotch earlier that day, and he agreed to give us two weeks off and cover us. Spencer was going to be in Vegas, 'cos his mother had had an episode, and I would be in New York, helping my brother on a case. Seemed convincing. Having the two of us out of town would stop any of our friends to stop by unannounced.

- "(Y/N), thank you for doing this for Reid"- Hotch said before hanging up. I felt lucky to have him as my unit chief. He surely cared for all of us. I don't think anyone else would have done the same.

Retchings from my bathroom were the first thing I heard as soon as I stepped into my room.

- "Honey, do you need help?"- but Reid didn't answer. So I ran back to the kitchen and got him a Gatorade from the fridge, set it on the nightstand. Then I ran to my closet and grabbed a clean towel.

I opened the bathroom door and found Reid kneeled by the toilet. He had already flushed but didn't stand up.

- "Here"- I dampened the towel and put it on his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed- "Better?"

Spencer just nodded and stayed still for a moment. I took off his glasses and pulled his hair back carefully. He started retching a second later, and I rubbed his stomach, cooing him. When he was done, I flushed and helped him stand up. That wasn't it, and I knew it. He knew it too.

- "Did you know brushing your teeth right after throwing up damages your teeth?"- he whispered, making me smile. It felt good to know deep down, even under those shitty circumstances, he was still the same good old Reid.

- "So, mouthwash?"- I moved the bottle closer for him, and he just nodded- "I'll be outside."

Reid drank a little Gatorade and made a sad effort to read after getting into bed but fell asleep in less than five minutes. I took the glasses off (again) and took the book from his hands. My heart felt warm just to see him there, resting.

But that lasted less than half an hour. I stayed by Spencer's side to make sure he was ok. I was reading when he started retching again. I grabbed the bucket I had already set underneath the bed and rushed to help him. His stomach was already empty. He was basically just vomiting bile.

When he finally fell asleep again, he started shaking. I touched his hand, and he was freezing, so I took an extra blanket from the closet, placed it on top of him, and set the room's thermostats to make it a little warmer for him.

I stayed by his side, reading until he woke up again. This time, he was sweating. I took a clean pajama top from his bag and helped him change. Then, I took the dirty pajamas and the clothes he had worn that day and put them in the washer.

I sat next to Reid on the bed and looked at him. He was awake, rolling over and over, not able to stay still.

- "Come here"- I whispered and tapped on my lap- "Put your head here."

I thought he was going to argue, but no. Instead, he did as told with no hesitation as I ran my fingers through his hair slowly, scratching his scalp carefully. I felt how he inhaled deeply and relaxed, at least for a little while.

But it didn't last. And the rest of the night was a long loop of puke, shivers, and sweat. Spencer finally fell asleep for good around six in the morning, and I dragged my exhausted self to the couch. Night one was done. Nine more to go.

Spencer's point of view

My whole body ached. I opened my eyes, disoriented. All I knew was that I felt I had been beaten up, but I didn't recognize the room. I did recognize the smell on my pillow, though. It was (Y/N)'s. That's how I remembered what was going on.

Adding to how bad I felt, physically, I felt worst knowing everything that had happened the night before and in advance for everything I knew would happen that week. But even knowing that, and even when I was embarrassed to be a burden, I was glad to be there. I was happy to feel taken cared of and loved. It was a change I never imagined I could experience. The one who always took care of his mother now had someone who took care of him. It was under a miserable context, but I felt loved anyway.

Even when I was loved only as a friend.

I stood up slowly. I was fatigued, probably 'cos I had spent half of the night puking. I drank what was left of the Gatorade on the nightstand and walked to the living room. (Y/N) was asleep on the couch. My heart ached to think how uncomfortable she probably was while I slept on her queen-sized bed. No one had ever cared so much about me before. So I walked to the kitchen and made her breakfast. A classical Reid breakfast. Coffee, cereal, and milk. That was it. That was all I could cook.

- "Hey, what are you doing?"- (Y/N) appeared suddenly and smiled at me so sweetly, I nearly dropped the coffee pot.

- "I'm trying to make you breakfast"- I confessed and blushed- "And as you can see, I'm not much of a cooker."

- "You made coffee, you covered the most important part"- she held the cup I had filled for her and smiled- "What if you get comfy on the couch while I make you something to eat?"

- "I can't let you do everything, (Y/N)"- the way she looked at me, my heart skipped a beat.

- "I'll tell you what: If I ever get sick or hurt, or anything happens to me, you are going to be the one taking care of me. Ok?"- I nodded and stayed quiet- "Now, go to the couch. It's a lazy Monday."

- "What does that mean?"

- "We stay in our pajamas, watch movies, nap, and do nothing."

How could anyone say no to that?

I wasn't hungry at all, but (Y/N) really applied herself with everything she cooked: she made chocolate chips, hotcakes, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a smoothie, and also forced me to eat a bowl of fruit. She said I needed all the vitamins I could get, 'cos I had to get strong.

She sat next to me, ate the bowl of cereal I had prepared for her, and drank the coffee I had made. It was relaxing just staying there, covered with a blanket, watching Dr. Who. I felt my body losing up little by little. Until detox hit again. The light was bothering me, burning my eyes, and my body felt weak. Nauseous started kicking in, and before I knew it, I was throwing up on (Y/N)'s carpet.

She held a bucket in front of me and pressed a damped towel on the back of my neck.

- "Better?"- (Y/N) whispered and smiled at me. Her fingers tucked some of my hair behind my ears gently- "Do you want to lay down for a while? You are shaking."

I just nodded.

- "Ok, come on, let's go"- she held my arm and helped me stand up. She was right. I was shaking, but not just because I was cold. It was the withdrawal.

I was so embarrassed and mortified. With each symptom, I was a little more certain (Y/N) would never look at me the way I did. She would never fall for me after what she was witnessing. No one in their right mind would.

- "There you are"- she whispered, fixing the pillow behind my head as I laid on her bed again.

- "Can you please close the curtains?"- I whispered, covering my face with both hands. The light was too painful to deal with.

- "Sure, honey. Headache?"- all I could do was nod- "I'll get you ibuprofen, that will help with your body aches and the migraine."

I stayed still, eyes closed, hands covering my face, thinking how I had gotten to the point of having to detox my body from drugs. It was, without a doubt, the lowest moment of my whole life.

- "Ok, honey, try to get some rest, ok?"- (Y/N) whispered after I took the ibuprofen and drank half the bottle of water she had brought.

- "Can you..."- I studied because I was afraid to tell her I didn't want her to leave me alone. I was afraid to be on my own. I didn't trust myself or my mind.

- "What is it? Do you want another blanket?"

- "Can you stay with me?"- I finally asked and held her hand. She just nodded, smiling, and sat next to me on her bed, making sure I was comfy and cozy, fixing the pillow again and the blanket. I looked at her as she laid by my side on top of the covers and held her book.

- "I'm here, Spencer. And I'll be where when you wake up, ok?"

- "Can you read to me?"- I closed my eyes 'cos the light was killing me.

- "And your headache?"

- "Your voice is soothing, and it would help to concentrate on something else but the pain."

- "Ok... then prepare yourself for some horror, 'cos I'm reading, yet again, "Something wicked this way comes."

- "It's one of my favorites"- I whispered and sighed.

- "Why am I not surprised?"

I tried to fight the waves of nausea, the pain in every muscle and headache, and only focused on the sound of her voice as she read. It took me back to when I was a kid, and my mom would read me every night. (Y/N) kept caressing my hair and reading to me. It was the closest I had ever been to heaven, even when physically, I felt like dying.

When I woke up, (Y/N) was asleep by my side. I tried to move, but my body was limp. It was too painful for me to get up on my own, and all I could think of was one simple thing: Dilaudid. I was craving it. I would never feel so bad if I had a fix. Just a little one. To make the pain go away.

I was making excuses to justify my need for drugs. I wanted to feel better, 'cos right there, on (Y/N)'s bed, I felt dead already, and my whole body was rotting. I just wanted to get a little high. It wasn't going to hurt anyone. Right?

Wrong. The bruise on (Y/N)'s arm was the reality check I needed. I hurt her. I hit her. I pushed her away from me. That's how low I had gotten. I would not let that happen again, and more important than anything else: I was never going to hurt (Y/N), ever again. And that I swore to myself that day on her bed.

There was no use in denying the fact I was in love with my best friend. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me. And I knew I was going to love her forever, even when she would only be my friend. I didn't even know when I had fallen so hard in love with her. I tried to remember the moment my feelings had changed from friendship to love, but I couldn't find it. I just knew I loved her, and nothing was ever gonna change that.

The kind of love that makes you think you'd die for that person. I would die for her, just to make sure she is safe.

I felt so pathetic thinking those things. Not because I didn't want to feel that way, but because I knew (Y/N) would never look at me like that. But still, I'd give her everything she could ever ask me for.

I just laid by her side and looked at her as she slept. My eyes were finally able to slide on every detail of her face. Her freckles, her nose, the color of her lips that even without makeup looked like a cherry. And the bruise on her arm. I was never going to forget about it and neither forgive myself.

- "Hey"- she whispered, fluttering her eyes- "How are you feeling?"

- "Good"- I lied. I didn't want to tell her I felt like dying. She stayed still, looking at me for a few seconds.

- "Are you hungry?"- I shook my head, even that hurt- "How's the headache?"- my eyes were killing me.

- "Better"- she nodded and sighed.

- "I know you are full of shit, Spencer Walter Reid. You don't need to lie"- I just closed my eyes and refused to open them again for a few minutes.

- "I just don't want you to worry, (Y/N). That's all."

- "Do you want to sleep some more? I'm gonna go..."- but as soon as she moved, I stopped her.

- "No"- I looked at her and held her hand immediately. Every muscle in my body hurt with that movement, but I didn't regret it- "Please, don't leave."

- "Ok, I won't go. I promise"- she held my hand and caressed it slowly and smiled so sweetly, I think I even smiled back.

We laid in silence for a while. I closed my eyes again, trying to breathe normally. (Y/N) was lying next to me. That would get my heart racing in a second.

- "The nurse is coming around five. She will put an eye on you every day if you need any medical attention, ok?"- I hummed as a response and kept focused on her fingers playing with my hand- "Maybe we can ask her to help you take a bath."

I wide opened my eyes at those words and noticed how my best friend was blushing.

- "What?"- she chuckled at my reaction- "I can take a bath on my own!"

- "Really? You should consider it then"- she stuck out her tongue to me and giggled- "Though your two days beard is cute"- she ran her fingers along my jaw and sent shivers all over my body. The proximity felt so new, yet incredibly natural, almost familiar.

- "Thanks?"- I answered with a question 'cos I had no idea what else to do. I just stayed still and looked into her eyes. She didn't say another word either. Her eyes were following her fingers, playing with my jawbone slowly.

I wanted to move a little closer to her and hug her, maybe. But I couldn't. Not only because I physically couldn't move without crying, but because her phone rang and made her jump on the bed.

- "Hey! Paco, how are you?"- I heard her pick up the phone in the living room and walk back to me, holding another bottle of Gatorade.

- "No, I'm on a case. In New York. I don't know how long, I wish I could predict how long it's gonna take to catch a fucking serial killer, but I can't."

I looked at her as she walked around the room, talking with Frank. Of course, it was him. She always called him Paco. I slowly sat down on the bed and sighed. I was paranoid about the shower. Maybe I stank. I hadn't bathed since... Saturday. Obviously, I smelled terrible. I had been sweating all night long.

I made my best effort and walked to the bathroom. Everything hurt. When I finally managed to take off my pajamas and ran the shower, I was weary. But the warm water made me feel a lot better.

I took a long shower. Not just because I wanted to stay forever under the warm water, but because I couldn't really move that fast. I washed my hair and considered shaving. But I didn't have a razor on hand, and if (Y/N) liked my tiny beard, I decided to keep it.

- "Hey! everything ok?"- (Y/N) asked from the other side of the door.

- "Yes, I'm ok"- she walked in, and I froze.

- "Ok, I'll leave a clean towel next to the shower, ok? It's warm"

- "Thank you."

I stayed still under the water until she exited the bathroom and nearly held my breath at the thought of her being there with me. It was too much, and to be honest, I was too weak to overthink it. But I knew it was going to be a thought that would hunt me back home.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I sat on the couch and drank my tea after leaving the towel for Spencer in the bathroom. My heart was racing, and that shouldn't be happening. Why was I so affected by my best friend? I knew I was worried, and all my attention was focused on him, but that didn't explain why my stomach fluttered when I looked at him.

- "Put your shit together!!"- I yelled/whispered to myself and shook my head.

Frank had called to know about Spencer, but I had to lie and act like I was at work. I couldn't just tell him what was going on in front of Reid. So I texted him the short version of the fact, and he asked me to keep him posted. He also told me he was going to keep Mikey and Lu away from my apartment those days.

Spencer took a shower and sat with me on the couch. I had cleaned the vomit from the carpet and kept a bucket near in case he felt sick. We read in silence for a while, and I kept checking on him every few minutes. He was nervous and looked anxious. I wasn't going to ask him what was wrong, 'cos it was obvious he was craving Dilaudid, and to be honest, I was scared he might start yelling and getting violent. So, I stood up and prepared him a smoothie. I knew he hated healthy eating, especially salads, but he was doomed. He had to put some vitamins in his body.

He looked at me disgusted as I gave him the glass but drank it quietly and gave it back in a minute. I was impressed.

He threw it up in less than ten minutes, though. So far, not so good.

He also vomited lunch. I knew his whole body ached, so I put on a Star Trek DVD to keep his mind busy in anything else. When the nurse came, she did a brief check-up and told me to continue with the same diet and ibuprofen in case of severe pain. We had to put an eye on dehydration. She also suggested we'd engage in some physical activity as soon as he felt better. Walks to the park were her recommendation.

I couldn't imagine Spencer walking out of the house under those conditions, but I had high hopes by the end of that week, he was going to feel much better.

The second night was worse than the first because his body aches hit him harder. He rolled in bed in pain, shivering. I stayed with him until late, trying to soothe him. I read and caressed his sweated hair. At a certain point, I just sat there with his head on my legs, and he started crying. His tears soaking my legs and his sobs breaking my heart.

I didn't know what to say. I don't know if there was anything to be said at that moment. So I just leaned in and kissed Spencer's temple. I rocked him like a baby and did my best to calm him down. He just kept crying on and on, tearing my soul apart. I couldn't handle watching him like that. I didn't know what to do to help him feel better too. All I could do was be with him throughout the process and hold him tight to make sure I kept all his pieces together. I didn't want him to fall apart.

When I opened my eyes the following day, Spencer was asleep in front of me. He was pale, and the rings under his eyes were darker than ever. But at least, he was finally sleeping.

I stared at him for a few minutes, planning the day. But soon, I realized I couldn't concentrate. I just looked at him. I knew my friend was handsome, even when he always argued when I let him know. But at that moment, he made my heart beat faster. His hair was messy and with some curls. His brown beard kept growing. I had never seen Spencer with facial hair, and I loved it. I wanted to tell him to keep it, but then I thought it might be inappropriate. Not that telling him was wrong, but what he was making me feel.

I refused to think I had a crush on my friend. Because I didn't. I was just worried sick for him, and my head was confused. It wasn't the time to think about that. I had to be a good friend and help Reid. His wellbeing was all that mattered to me.

So I got out of bed and ran to the kitchen to make sure everything was ready. I cooked breakfast and lunch, cleaned, and took a quick shower. I was walking out of the bathroom in my clean clothes when Spencer woke up. He rolled in bed and looked at me, confused.

- "Hey, how are you feeling, honey?"- I whispered and sat next to him on the bed. He yawned and nodded.

- "Better."

- "Great, I hope you are hungry, 'cos breakfast is ready"- he scratched his head and yawned again. And I swear, I had to mentally slap myself because I thought he looked adorable and couldn't stop staring.

- "Do you want to take a shower?"- I asked him and stood up. I had to do anything to keep me from being stupid- "I can also run you a bath. I got some salts that could make you feel better. They might help with your body ache."

- "Thank you"- he whispered and sat down. He just looked at me in silence as I kept myself busy opening curtains, folding blankets, and cleaning the bathroom, to get it ready for him

- "Did you sleep?"- he asked me suddenly- "You look tired."

- "Nah, I'm ok. I think I went too heavy on the coffee earlier."

- "How long have you been up?"- I looked at my wristwatch and sighed.

- "A couple of hours."

It was ten. I got up at eight. Spencer had finally fallen asleep at five. It didn't take a genius to see I hadn't slept properly.

- "Why don't you nap?"- he asked and tapped on the bed- "You look like you could use some more sleep"- that was tempting, I won't deny it. But no. I couldn't.

- "Tell you what, why don't you eat something and then we can watch a movie together?"- Spencer nodded and moved slowly. That's when I remembered he felt like shit.

- "Come here"- I stood by his side and held his hands- "Can you stand up?"

- "Yes"- he whispered and tried to move on his own. His legs were shaking, and so were his hands. He did his best to stand up, and after a few tries on his own, he succeeded. But after giving two steps alone, he stumbled and nearly fell.

- "I've got you!"- I said, wrapping my arms around him and keeping him steady. His whole face was red, in anger maybe, or embarrassment. I didn't want to push him to talk or do anything. I just made sure he wouldn't fall.

- "Wanna stay in bed?"- I suggested

- "No"- he murmured and took a step ahead

- "Ok, let's go to the living room then."

Spencer didn't reply. I was sure he was ashamed and upset. I just walked with him to the living room, trying to think of anything else: anything but the butterflies in my stomach.

It was getting harder to ignore the mental fuzziness I felt each time I looked at him. But I refused to think about it. It wasn't the right time.

But it got worse that evening.

We spent the whole day on my sofa, napping, reading, and watching Star Trek. I was getting dinner ready when Spencer's phone rang. We both stayed still. He looked at me with widened eyes, almost scared. I smiled and walked to my room to get the phone. It was JJ.

I'm not proud to say it, but an overwhelming sensation of insecurity and concern filled my body. Why was JJ calling Spencer? Were they closer than I thought? I don't know why I kept thinking all those things.

- "It's JJ"- I announced and gave him his phone. He hesitated for a moment and finally picked up. I walked back to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water. What was wrong with me?

- "Mom is fine, thank you for calling"- I heard him say and closed my eyes. I had to focus on the food. I had to focus on helping him get better.

Why was I so upset JJ had called him? It was nice to know more people cared about him. Not as much as I did, of course.

- "Sure, I tell her. I'll see you in a couple of days"

I walked back to the living room carrying a tray with soup and salads. Spencer sat down properly and looked at me with a small smile.

- "I know you hate veggies, but you are doomed"- I whispered, reading his mind- "These are packed with all the vitamins and minerals your body needs."

- "Thank you"- he murmured and kept his eyes on me until I sat next to him and grabbed my bowl.

- "How was JJ?"- I had to ask. He cleared his throat and played with the lettuce on his dish for a moment before saying.

- "She was ok. She wanted to know if everything was ok with my mom."

- "Oh"- I didn't know what else to say. I tried no to think about it anymore, 'cos it was useless.

- "I kind of felt bad everybody swallowed our story"- Spencer confessed and sighed.

- "That's because I make up the best lies, honey,"- I smiled at him, but he just stared- "Everything ok?"

- "I'm not hungry"

- "Come on, at least have the soup, please?"

- "I don't want to barf all over your carpet, again"- he whispered and kept playing with the lettuce.

- "What if I tell you I made brownies? and you can have a brownie if you eat the soup?"- Spencer bit his lips and shook his head.

- "Why are you treating me like a kid?"

- "I am not! I'm blackmailing you with sugar as I would do under any other circumstance."-

And I wasn't lying. I would definitely try to force him to eat or do something with the promise of a brownie.

- "So? What do you say? Eat that soup, and we'll have brownies... with vanilla ice cream."

Reid stared into my eyes, and I held my breath. He was so pale, so thin. And yet, so beautiful.

- "If I vomit..."

- "If you vomit, you vomit. No hard feelings"- I smiled and tapped on his leg- "Besides, you need to get some vitamins in your body. You are too thin."

He didn't reply. He started eating slowly and kept watching Star Trek in silence.

Spencer successfully ate his bowl of soup and ate a little bit of the salad. I knew he hates veggies, so I didn't push him. As a reward, I prepared a big tray with brownies with ice cream, chocolate sauce, and hot chocolate with marshmallows and put it on the coffee table in front of us. We were about to start eating when we heard a knock on the door.

- "That's the nurse"- I said and stood up quickly. But I was wrong. It was Paul.

- "Babe... hey"- he smiled at me as soon as I opened the door and tried to walk in. But I didn't let him.

- "What are you doing here?"- I stood at the door and raised an eyebrow. I knew we didn't have a bad breakup, but after what he had said that night, I was afraid he might freak out to see Spencer in his pajamas watching tv on my couch.

- "I couldn't stop thinking about what happened the other night, and..."- he made a pause and looked inside- "What are you doing?"

- "I'm having dinner"

- "Alone?"- I didn't answer- "Can I come in?"

- "No"

- "Are you with someone? are you on a date?"- Paul pushed the door and stormed into my apartment. Reid turned around and looked at him, embarrassed.

- "What the fuck do you think you are doing? get out of my house!"- I grabbed my ex-boyfriend's sleeve and stopped him.

- "Hey, Paul"- Spencer waved from the couch, looking scared. His shoulders were tightened, and his eyes wide opened.

- "What is this nerd doing here?"- Paul turned to me, ignoring my friend.

- "What are you doing here? That's the question!"

- "I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day."

- "Well, sorry to crack the news, but if this is an apology, it sucks!"- I swear, I could feel my pulse speeding- "And there is nothing to talk or forgive, we broke up, and it was ok!"

- "Yeah, and now the nerd is here to make you feel better!"

- "You have no idea what you are talking about! And would appreciate it if you stop calling him that!!"- I freaked out and clenched my fist. I was going to lose it with him.

- "Good luck with the Ice Princess here!!"- Paul yelled at Reid- "If you are lucky, she is gonna hug you once!!"

- "Get out!"- I stood by the open door and slammed it as soon as he had left. My hands were shaking, my lips were quivering, and my eyes were tearing up.

- "Are you... are you ok?"- Spencer stood up and walked to me. He stumbled a little but managed to hold me. I didn't reply. I just broke into tears.

Why was I crying if I was glad I had broken up with Paul? Why was I so upset to see him at my house? Why was I shaking in anger?

Maybe I was just human, and I was tired of all the shit. Perhaps I was just sleepy or stressed with everything going on with Reid. Or the fact he kept thinking I had feelings for my best friend was too much for me.

Even the fact he called me "Ice Princess" hurt me. Yes, I wasn't a very physical person with him. But that was just because I wasn't in love with him.

For a few minutes, I just cried, soaking Spencer's pajamas as he held me tight, just like I had done for him the night before.

- "I'm sorry"- I whispered and sighed. I let him go and fixed my hair- "I shouldn't let Paul affect me so much, but I wasn't expecting to see him."

- "What happened?"- Spencer held my hand and took me to the couch with him. He handed me a dish with brownie and melted ice cream, and a spoon.

- "We broke up a few days ago."- my best friend looked at me in silence as his shaky thumb wiped off the tears on my cheeks.

- "I was actually planning dinner with the guys to give them the news, 'cos I knew they would like to celebrate... but that doesn't matter. You were right; I didn't love him. I don't know why I was still dating him."

- "I'm sorry"- he whispered and carefully wrapped me on a blanket.

- "Don't be. I really wanted to break up with him. I was just scared to lose who I used to be..."

- "You are never going to lose who you are, (Y/N)"- Spencer whispered and cut me a smile- "Frankie, Lu, and Mikey would never let that happen"- I sighed and nodded- "I won't let that happen either."

- "Thank you, honey"- I grabbed the spoon and took a big piece of brownie- "You know what bothers me? I don't know why I'm crying so much! I'm not sad! I'm angry!"

- "Actually, when you get mad, your body produces a flood of hormones that stimulate strong reactions in your body, like racing your heart and getting sweaty palms. In response to the elevated stress level, crying stimulates the release of oxytocin and prolactin. These two chemicals can bring your heart rate down and otherwise calm you after a stressful event."

- "Well, my fucking body makes me look weak and stupid!"

- "You could never look weak..."- Spencer hesitated for a second. It felt like he wanted to add something to those words but finally just stayed quiet.

- "Thank you, honey bunny. You are the best friend I could ever ask for."

- "Don't say that. You are the best friend I could have ever asked for."

We just stared for a few seconds. His eyes on mine, my hands still shaking, though I didn't know why.

It was a moment I knew I could never forget, 'cos it was the moment I first considered kissing Spencer.

It was a thought that only lasted for a second, but it was there. And like a seed planted on my brain, once I knew it was there, it could only grow and hunt me, like a ghost.

Spencer's point of view

My heart ached to see (Y/N) crying because of an asshole who never deserved her. And it also jumped of joy knowing she was no longer dating that jerk. I knew I could never make a move on her, but just to know she wasn't stuck with him made me happy.

But the fact she had gone through all that alone and didn't even talk about it for four days because she was too busy taking care of me made me feel awful. I didn't deserve any of that.

- "How are you feeling?"- she whispered and smiled at me after finishing her brownie- "Want me to heat your cocoa?"

- "I'm ok, thank you"

I stared at her in silence and decided to make the boldest move I have ever made with her, and opened my arm for her so that she could cuddle. She didn't hesitate and moved closer. I wrapped an arm around her, and her head rested on my chest. And trying not to make it look like a big deal, I also held her hand and caressed her skin, tracing random patterns on it.

- "I'm sorry for being such a bad friend"- I said and kissed the top of her head. I didn't plan it. I just did it. And it felt so good.

- "Don't say that."

- "I've been an asshole since Tobias."

- "You haven't... I mean, you have, but you had your reasons"- she made a pause and sighed. I knew something was bothering her, and I was hoping it wasn't our position because I loved how her warm body felt against mine.

- "Honey?"- she whispered, and I hummed as a response- "Would you call me a cold person?"

- "Never..."

- "I know I'm not a physical person, but..."

- "Me neither, and look at us"- I pointed out the obvious, and she softly giggled. He raised her head from my chest and turned to look at me. I swear all I could think of that minute was kissing her.

- "I am more loving with you than I ever was with Paul"- she confessed and sighed. Her eyes were sad. Clearly, what he had said to her had affected her more than she wanted to admit.

- "He didn't deserve it anyway"- she added and moved back to lay her head on my chest- "You do."

And after that, we just stayed like that, hugged on the couch, until the nurse knocked on the door.

- "You look much better"- I smiled at the nurse and nodded- "Still nauseous?"

- "Yes, but not as much as yesterday"- I whispered and looked at her, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around my arm, right next to all the marks I left with the needles. I wanted to hide them from everyone, and I thanked (Y/N) wasn't in the room. Of all people, she was the one I didn't want to see those marks the most.

- "They are going to fade soon"- the nurse whispered. I wasn't too subtle with my reaction, I guess. I just nodded and looked away.

- "Your girlfriend is taking excellent care of you. You are a fortunate guy"- I'm sure I blushed and turned to her immediately.

- "She... she is... she is not my girlfriend"- I felt I needed to explain it, I don't know why.

- "Really?"- and the nurse seemed to be in shock- "She surely loves you."

- "She is my best friend"- I whispered and felt how my heart was nearly bursting inside my chest.

- "You are lucky to have her"- she added, and I agreed.

I knew I was lucky. Even when (Y/N) wasn't my girlfriend, I knew I had to be with her. Always.

After thirteen days of home detox, I was back to being my old self again. I felt happy, healthy, and strong. I don't think I had ever felt that good before.

I loved spending those days with (Y/N), and I was pretty bummed I had to go back to my apartment the next day. The fact I had lived with her for two weeks was incredible. I knew it all happened under dark and miserable circumstances, but it had been life-changing.

Now I knew everything I wanted to know about her to help me make her day better and all her little quirks. Her favorite brands of tea, her favorite snacks. How she liked to take the last cup of tea of the day in bed, reading. Her favorite bands. How she always cooked singing. She always slept on her left side. And how after all those days, we would be so comfortable together, we would cuddle naturally, even without asking.

I don't want to overreact, but it was pretty heavenly to me, like the sensation I felt with the romantic poems mom used to read to me when I was little. Just don't tell anyone I said that.

- "Ok, dinner is ready"- (Y/N) announced and took the lasagna from the oven. I held a bowl of salad and walked with her to the dining room.

- "What do you wanna drink?"

- "A glass of wine, you?"

- "Red or white?"- I asked her and walked back to the kitchen. I didn't even wait for her answer. I took the white and two glasses. She smiled and sat down.

- "This looks amazing, (Y/N)"- and I wasn't lying.

- "Wait until you see dessert, we have three colors of Jell-O"- the fact she knew I loved jello wasn't what got me. It was how happy she looked to spoil me with my favorite dessert.

- "Thank you for cooking all my favorite meals."

- "You are welcome, honey bunny"- I smiled at her and poured a glass of wine for her and one for me.

- "Can I ask you something?"- I whispered, and she nodded- "Why do you call me honey bunny?"- she looked from her dish and giggled.

- "It took you forever to ask."

- "Well... I didn't want you to think I didn't like it..."

- "You don't?"- I wide opened my eyes and shook my head frenetically.

- "No! I love it! I just... don't know... where does it come from? You said I gave you the "honey bunny" vibes, but... what does that mean?"- (Y/N) chewed her lasagna and looked at me.

- "Well, I always loved that nickname. I thought it was adorable and never used it on anyone because no one ever gave me that vibe. I had never met my honey bunny before."

"My Honey Bunny." That woman was killing me, and she had no idea.

- "And I took it from Pulp Fiction"- she finally confessed and waited for my reaction- "Have you seen it?"

- "No"- I admitted and shrugged.

- "Then we are watching it after dinner tonight"- (Y/N) decided, and I nodded- "You still don't give me a nickname, by the way."

She had no idea, but I had a list of nicknames for her. I had written all the cute names I wanted to call on a notebook I kept in my satchel. But I didn't dare. I could call her cute names in my head all the time, but never out loud.

- "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, by the way"- she added and kept eating.

- "I have never done it before"- I accepted, feeling embarrassed- "Sorry."

- "Why are you sorry?"

- "I don't want you to think I don't want to call you by a loving nickname. I just..."

- "Come on, how would you call me? Do I give you any nickname vibe?"- I chuckled, and she smiled childishly.

- "I really like the story behind "nugget." I think it's brilliant"- she shook her head, and her cheeks blushed- "But for you... I think I have three options."

- "So you've given it some thoughts!"- I nodded and took a sip of wine- "Let me hear them."

- "Well... after that case in Oregon when you got lost in the woods, I thought I could call you "chipmunk"- I confessed and watched her face light up.

- "I love that!"

- "Really?"- I chuckled and looked at her holding my breath- "Well... then I remembered how we became friends and your obsession with cupcakes, so I thought I could call you that."

- "I love that too!!"

- "And..."- since I was honest, I took it a little further- "After last Halloween, and all the carving we did, and our movie marathon, I thought "pumpkin" was pretty sweet too."

(Y/N) sighed and smiled at me, her cheeks blushing and her eyes shining.

- "They are all awesome, so you should use them all, and I can look for more nicknames for you"- I simply stared at her and felt how my heart melted.

- "Ok"- I whispered, and she raised an eyebrow playfully.

- "Ok, what?"

- "Ok... pumpkin"- I whispered and held my breath at the sound of those words leaving my lips.

She really didn't have a clue about what she did to me.

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic @archer561

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy

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Next update: May 19th, 2021

#Spencer Reid #Matthew Gray gubler #Criminal Minds #mgg #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #fluf #angst #Criminal Minds rewrite #babymetaldoll edits #babymetaldoll writes #DIWK #Spencer Reid x reader #matthew gray gubler

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