#and hadn't realized at the time how much awful shit was in the books to begin with until the spew subplot

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

"oh you used to love Ha-ry Pot-er now you just hate it because it's a trend" no actually I stopped reading less than halfway through goblet of fire before I even started high school after the entire "Hermione gets portrayed as over the top/overzealous for wanting to fucking abolish house elf slavery" subplot started. thanks tho

[uranometrias]

nobody ever loved me like you do, spencer reid

just a little prompt i couldn't get out of my head. this is majority fluff, it got kind of heavy towards the end, but no smut because i'm a coward, reader is a university student, there's an age gap between reader + spencer, unspecified, but reader is over 22. based off of 'pov' by ariana grande.

this absolutely got long as shit, i don't know how to be normal. (5.6k wrds)

"what's on your mind?" you hadn't realized you'd gone quiet until you feel the dip of the couch. it takes a moment to snap out of the little moment you've dug yourself into, but when you do you're pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the couch next to you. he grabs hold of the book you'd haphazardly discarded, and flips it over. you imagine internally he's tsking at you, he was always reminding you to be careful of the spine of the books you read, but you're happy he doesn't make a move to scold you about it now. instead, he closes it, and places it in his lap, letting his eyes trace all over your pretty face.

"is everything okay?" he prods, and in truth, you were fine. you didn't really know why you'd gotten so lost in your head, it just happened sometimes. domesticity was still fairly new, and despite the fact that your relationship with spencer had gotten to the point where you both were comfortable staying at each other's places for long periods of time, you still kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. spencer was the first guy you'd been with that was older, already established, had a 'big boy job' as you so eloquently labeled it. he had security.

not that you were some lazy, unprepared individual letting your life slip by, but you were still figuring things out. you were in university, and you had big dreams and hopes for your future, it just felt like it was taking forever to get there. to your future. everyone was always telling you not to wish away your youth, but by law you were no longer a child, you hadn't been for a while. your twenties were meant to be for 'figuring things out', finding yourself all over again, or that's what you were always hearing. over time it felt easier said than done.

the point was when you were still uncertain about what you wanted to spend the rest of your life doing, it was hard to feel grown up. especially when you had a boyfriend like spencer who was always doing something to raise the bar for humanity. he was a genius, he worked for one of the most prestigious units in the fbi, he was in the fbi... that in itself was an accomplishment. he had phds, bachelor degrees, and an extensive knowledge of literature in numerous languages and texts. to top it all off, he really was a great boyfriend.

you supposed it was just you feeling a bit insecure. you didn't believe that he expected too much of you, but that didn't stop you from putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. "everything's fine." you promise, and you tack on a warm smile to really sell it. the action triggers an involuntary smile from spencer, and you feel a bit faint, just because he's so pretty. "i was just watching you read." you admit, and it was true, you had gotten a bit lost in how quickly spencer was speeding through his own book. it didn't trigger insecurity, it just left you in awe at how absurdly lucky you were to have bagged spencer.

"yeah?" and he's got this edge to his voice that he usually gets when he's tired, sleepy, content. it was comforting, knowing that he was comfortable being here, like this with you. "are you sure that you're alright?" and he's leaning forward, hand cupping your cheek as he rubs his thumb over your jaw, and you lean into him. "you know you can talk to me about anything." he adds, and he's perceptive. you're certain that part of this has to do with his job, and the other part has a lot to do with the fact that he knows you so well.

"i know." you answer instantly, and you bring your hand up to hold over top his. "trust me, i know. that's why i like you so much." you beam brightly, and you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips. it's a peck, and it sounds like one with the way that your lips smack together. you note his disappointment when you pull away just as he moved to kiss you a bit more fiercely. you find yourself giggling a bit as he pouts at you, and you lean in to offer him another kiss.

"like?" he asks, and you know he's fishing, but for what you're not sure. his eyes never look as bright as they do when he's sitting across from you. it offers you a bit of an ego boost to know that someone as handsome as your spencer consistently looks so enamored and enraptured with you. "i thought that we were a little past like..." he says, and your nose scrunches up at his big doe-eyed stare. "am i wrong about that?" and he holds his breath.

"no, you're right." you promise, and he relaxes. "we're past that." spencer looks relieved, and you wonder sometimes what's going on in his mind. he doesn't say anything for a while, he just looks at you, his thumb continues to draw soothing circles on your face, and you think you might be convinced to fall asleep if he keeps it up. "i'm sorry." you offer, and spencer's immediately shaking his head at you.

"don't apologize." he presses, and he's peeling his hand away from your face. now it's your turn to be disappointed. "and if you don't feel like we're past the 'i like yous'... that's okay too." and he looks sad now. it's your least favorite expression on him, and you wonder if you've done something wrong. "i don't want you to feel like you're rushing yourself, okay? or like you're forcing yourself to feel anything that you don't." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inward, face contorting.

"i don't feel that way." you deny sternly. spencer's head tips to the side, curls following along, and the urge to run your hands through his hair almost chokes you out. "spencer, i don't feel that way." you reiterate, and you hate that his expression doesn't change. you hate that he looks like he doesn't believe you. "i have too many feelings for you." you admit, and you shake your head. "all of the feelings." you insist, and the problem is that you haven't managed to fully verbalize what that means. spencer's told you that he loves you, often.

you haven't managed to say it back, but not because you don't believe it. it's more so out of worry that once you tell him, things will get too real. you'll grow too comfortable, and by-proximity expose parts of yourself that spencer might not be ready for. things that'll make him run for the hills, and take his sweet i love yous with him. "that's a lot of feelings." spencer replies, and he sighs deep, chest moving with the action. you smile, mostly to ward off the tension.

he doesn't return it, and you suddenly feel anxious. "do you want-" he trails off, and he looks conflicted. "if you wanted to break up..." and your heart sinks. "you would tell me, wouldn't you?" he asks, and you immediately reach out for him, his hands curling into yours as you interlock your fingers. you want to slam your head into a wall, mostly for worrying him in this way. The last thing you'd been thinking about was a breakup, in fact, you'd finally resided yourself to the fact that you were in this relationship as long as spencer wanted you.

"do you think that's what this is about?"

"isn't it?" his quick retort makes you frown, and now you're facing one another with matching pouts. "i just want you to trust me with your feelings... all of them." he explains. "even the ones i might not enjoy the most." he treads lightly, and you find that there's nobody in the world who could matter more to you. "and i'm sorry if i haven't been doing enough to let you know that." and you huff in annoyance, but not with him. never with him. with yourself for overthinking.

"you've got it all wrong." you tell him, and you hope your words sound as definitive as they feel. "a breakup is the farthest thing from my mind." you shuffle a bit on the couch, mostly to invade the space he just took. you don't stop moving until he's back in your orbit, your knees brushing against his leg. "i've never met anyone like you before." and it feels cliche, but you suppose you've earned the right to quote the words, because they're true. "i think as far as expectations for boyfriends go, you managed to smash through them all."

spencer finds himself nervous under the onslaught of kind words. he can't look away from you though, because it's so rare when you let him into your head. despite all his profiling skills, you were still almost completely a mystery. he understood your physical cues, but the emotional ones were still hard to pinpoint. "i think sometimes i still keep waiting for you to realize how amazing you are..." and he has that annoying feeling of giddiness in his stomach. it feels childish, but he adores the rush loving you continues to give him.

"i think i'm a little aware." he says, and you laugh. your hands reach out, and now you're the one holding his face. he thinks it's a comfort thing of yours, the way you like to hold onto him when you're talking. his apprehension towards touch was no match for the way your hands on his face brought him a feeling of comfort like nothing else.

"and you still want to be with me?" you ask, and you don't sound bashful, more confused than anything else. spencer's confusion soon matches your own, his eyebrows furrowing as he recites your words over and over in his head. what sort of question was that? "i just mean that there's so many types of women out there... you work with so many." and your mind drifts to his closeness with the girls he worked with in the fbi. namely jennifer jareau.

you'd only met her a few times, you knew she was married with sons, but you couldn't shake the thought that if she wanted him she could have him. she was older, more confident, disastrously pretty. "i just don't understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me." you express, and spencer is flabbergasted. he forces you to peel your hands from his face, instead choosing to hold your hands and squeeze them gingerly.

"someone like you?" and he wants you to get it all out, every last bit of it, mostly so that he can correct every incorrect notion about yourself that you expose.

"someone who's immature, naive, inexperienced, uncertain about almost every major decision... you know? someone like me." you divulge, and he winces. "you've got so much going for you, i just don't want you to feel like i'm holding you back." you admit. "so when i saw you reading... i don't know-" you trail off, and spencer's eyes shoot across the room to his own discarded book. "i guess i just remembered how incredible you are, and how severely inadequate i must be in comparison." and your voice gets quieter as you finish.

"you could never hold me back." he states firmly. "and even more than that... i don't think it's actually possible for someone to really hold you back." he admits, and you feel him beginning to start on a tangent, though you don't mind. they were far and few in between these days. "to me it always seemed more like an excuse people use to place blame on someone else for their shortcomings." spencer's let go of your hands, and you watch them as he gestures boisterously. "for everything i'm good at, there's so many areas where i fall short."

you don't think you've ever loved him more.

"and who says phd's and fast reading skills are what make a person better suited or fit for anything?" and he knows that you want to rebuttal, so he continues so you don't get the chance to. "my skills help me with the job that i do... we can agree that's true, right?" he asks, and you nod your head. "right. but, you don't want to have my job, do you?" he asks, and your nose curls up. you thought that what spencer did was admirable, you loved celebrating the victories with him, you knew it was important, but you don't think you had it in you.

"no, i guess not." you disagree.

"and you don't need to be called 'doctor' or hold a gun, or kick down doors, in order to be... a suitable life partner."

"you're not kicking down any doors, spencer." you crack a joke, and you like that he laughs, it's the kind that morphs into a toothy smile.

"maybe not, i just mean that out of the two of us, you're not the one who needs to worry about not being adequate... i don't think there's anything in existence that would make me not want to be with you." and you feel bashful, but know full well that you can't pull your eyes away from him. "you're a lot to lose." he exhales, and you blink. "and you don't need doctorates or much of anything for that to be the case." spencer beams a little bit, "you captivate people without even realizing it sometimes." spencer's hand moves to rest on your thigh.

"you think so?"

"sometimes i try and figure out how i got so lucky, and i hope that i keep doing whatever it takes to make you stay." he admits. "does that make sense?" he asks, and you feel your heart wanting to burst out of your chest.

"it makes a lot of sense." you agree. "and i can guarantee that as long as you want me, you'll have me." you promise.

"and if i want you forever?" he asks, and you smile despite yourself.

"then i guess you're stuck with me forever, doctor reid." and he likes the thought a lot more than he anticipated. he thinks that's why he can't ignore the urge to kiss you. he leans forward, lips overtaking yours like a magnet being pulled towards a kindred force. you almost pounce, finding yourself rooted on top of his lap, fingers finally finding solace in his hair, as his hands scope out your waist and the curve of your hips.

you hum when his lips peel away from yours, landing on your neck as he peppered the space with kisses and small bites. kissing spencer was a surefire way to get you both started down a path of insatiability. it was dangerous, but you supposed with the conversation context in mind, it made perfect sense for this to be the end result. still, it feels like there's more to say, and you suppose that it's why you tighten your hold on his hair just slightly, craning your neck to give him all the access he needs. "spence?" you gasp.

he doesn't verbally acknowledge you, instead his arms loop around you, bringing you closer as he proceeds to leave hickeys in areas that would be much too difficult to hide. "spence..." you try again.

"i'm listening." he promises before he's placing a kiss just behind your ear. it makes you squirm, suddenly feeling lightheaded as his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

"can you tell me again?" you ask, and you don't want to ruin the moment, especially after he just sweetly poured his heart out to you. "tell me how you feel about me..." you instruct a bit more impatiently. spencer's more interested in leaving more marks on your skin, but he also enjoys the vulnerability that comes with expressing himself to you. he pulls away from your neck with one last peck, before his lust-filled gaze is locked on yours. you've taken to raking your nails through his hair, gently dragging against his scalp.

"you still don't know?" he asks, and part of you thinks he's doing this on purpose. it's not until you register the slight upturn of his lips that you recognize that he's teasing you.

"is it so bad that i want to hear it again?" you press, and you're feeling a bit impatient, mostly because you're itching to finally spit the three word phrase out, but you want him to say it first.

"no." he denies, head shaking. "it's not bad at all, and i don't mind telling you, but, can you ask me the right way?" and you feel the shift, the way his fingers finally slip under your shirt. it makes you jump, the way his fingertips trace over the skin of your lower back. "what are you fishing for, pretty girl?" you don't have the courage to stare at him anymore, instead you find your head glued to his chest, eyes squeezed shut, as your arms looped around him.

"i'm not fishing." you deny, and spencer presses a swift kiss to the top of your head. despite the desire to 'get to the good part' that you know you both feel, you still enjoy this part. the clinginess, the way he showered you in attention and affection that you had never believed yourself worthy of. he loved you so openly, so easily. it never felt like a burden, it never felt like something he had to try too hard at. you liked that, you liked that he made falling in love so easy.

"no?" he doesn't sound convinced. "what are you hoping i'll say then? i know you have an idea." he says and his chin is resting on the top of your head as he adjusts you on his lap. the tension still rests in the air, but he's holding you like he's comforting you almost, arms looped around you in an almost-hug that feels warm and comfortable and familiar. it's the kind that you could get lost in, fall asleep in. maybe you will, just as soon as you get through this last little emotional hoop.

"you don't know everything."

"did i say that?" he corrects you lowly, he's not impatient with you, and you wonder how long it took him to garner enough stamina to keep up with your sass.

"no." you deny, and he hums in agreement. you've taken to running your hands up and down his back, palms closing and opening as you try and quiet your anxiety. "i want to hear you say that you love me again." you admit, and it feels like a lump is forming in your throat. "i know that you do." you add a second after. "but sometimes i like to hear it anyway..." you clear your throat. "it makes me feel-" and you trail off, because you haven't really gotten over this hurdle.

spencer's smiling, and you know that he is, because as much as he knows you, you think you know him a little bit too. "how does it make you feel?" he asks, and you shake your head, eliciting an amused sort of exhale. "you can tell me anything." he reminds you, and of course you know that. "or we could move on... if it's too much to say right now." he offers you an out like the gentleman he always has been. "do you want to go back to before?" and you definitely want to kiss him.

maybe do a bit more than kiss.

"yes." you agree, but when it seems like he's about to move, you hold him even tighter to you. "wait, no." you deny, and he's exhaling through his nose. you cringe, because you know that sometimes you can be indecisive, but you think about what he'd told you earlier. you remind yourself that he wanted you, and you calm down. "i want to kiss you again." you start, and he doesn't say anything, because he knows you're not finished. "but i want to finish our conversation first." you huff, and he's surprised, in a pleasant sort of way.

"we can do that." he promises, "what do you want to tell me?"

"i like when you tell me that you love me." you admit, and you think it's good that you're not looking at him. you also like that he's still lightly dragging his fingers along your waist, it makes you shy, but you welcome it. "it's not something that you just tell everyone, so i like that you tell me, even though i haven't said it back." you feel like you're losing your breath as you rush to get it out. "and i like how what you said earlier makes me feel."

"how's that?" and spencer is spencer. he likes to drag things like this out, he likes for you to elaborate, to explain yourself. you suppose he likes to hear you just as much as you like to hear him.

"i don't know how to express it really, but it feels nice. 'cause you always sound like you mean it when you say it." you freeze when his fingers stop their slow journey, but you don't have time to focus on that right now. "not like butterflies, but it's like stabilizing." you shrug your shoulders. "and it's not the sort of thing that feels like it comes with some sort of price. like i don't hear it, and think 'oh he's only saying this because he wants to sleep with me', it doesn't-" you inhale. "it doesn't make me anxious or anything."

spencer's disappointed that his memory mostly works for things he's seen rather than heard, because he wants to relive this conversation for the rest of his life. it's a bit unheard of, especially in his lifetime. he's seen people in love, he's witnessed incredible relationships, but nothing he's seen has ever compared to the way that you manage to make him feel. he's had girlfriends, one-night-stands, experimentations, and things in between that felt like they could be the real thing, eventually. being with you though feels easy.

even when things go wrong, when you're too stubborn to communicate, and he's too tired to fight for you to, it still feels easy. like the struggles that come with your relationship are struggles he's willing to deal with. you're someone he's willing to deal with.

"it makes me want to stay." you offer, and it's scary, mostly because you've got the world's worst habit of running away when things get too real. you packed your bags at the first inconvenience, it was who you were, who you had been before spencer. you didn't stick around to fight for your relationships, you didn't let anyone fight for you either. "like... like even if things go horribly wrong, it'll still be okay as long as you still sound like you mean it when you say i love you."

you don't think you'll cry, but you do think once you're all finished, you'll want to stay wrapped up in him like this.

"i've just never met anyone that makes life make so much sense." and your leg is slightly shaking, and you're burrowing even deeper into his chest, holding him just a bit tighter. "so please... can you tell me again?" you ask, and your hands have taken fistfuls of his shirt, curling just slightly as you try and will your heartbeat to slow.

"you all done?" he asks, and you nod your head, all done with talking for now. "i'm so proud of you." and your confusion is back, as well as your ability to talk.

"what for?" you inquire, and he unloops his arms from around you. you don't want to move, but you know where this is going. still, you decide you'll wait until he asks you.

"can you look at me, please?" he asks quietly, and you're immediately pulling back, hands in your lap as you take in all the emotions resting on your boyfriend's face.

"oh, spence!" and you hope he's not about to cry. you've never been privy to it, but you can imagine what it'll do to you in your emotionally high state. "i know that was a lot, i'm sorry." you apologize despite the fact that you've done nothing wrong, a bad habit.

"please don't ever apologize for something like that." he corrects you gently. "i'm proud, because i can imagine how hard that likely was, but you did it anyway, so thank you for sharing how you're feeling with me." you look away just for a second, the moment feeling too heavy for you to manage. you're looking back at him just a moment after, his stare something you've always been terrible at ignoring and avoiding. "would it be a let down if i told you that i feel the same way about you?" he asks, and you wonder if this phase ever ends.

you don't want to wake up one day and find that your smile no longer reaches your eyes when you look at him, or hear his voice.

"no." you answer quietly. "i like when you agree with me, especially about your feelings for me." and it's a small joke, one you partially mean. "but, you still haven't told me that you love me, yet." you remind him a bit more sternly than you have been.

"i know." he retorts, and he looks a bit smug. you want to say that you hate when he gets like this, but you know you're lying. "i'm waiting to see how long it'll take you to crack." he admits, and your nose curls. he beams at you, and you want to glare, just for the fun of it. "why are you determined not to say it first?" he asks, and you cross your arms over your chest, busted.

"you don't know what's in my head." you instead argue, and his eyes roll, but he still seems amused. "i can say it first if i very well wish." you add, and his eyebrows raise, a challenge. unlucky for you, because you had a problem with being challenged. you would always walk right into his trap like a fool.

"so then say it." he taunts, and you realize pride is one hell of a killer.

"fine, i will." you retort, voice laced in mock-aggravation. "i love you." you deadpan, you say it like it's a bother. "happy now?"

"not with that attitude. can you try again? say it like you mean it?" he presses, and you're weaker in the knees than you initially believed. all your bravado goes right out the window, and you're suddenly anxious again, with no bite to curb your words, you're certain he'll hear every ounce of emotion you feel towards him if you say it again.

"spence." you exclaim, and he's not moved. you think you hate him just a little. "it's not fair, you're being mean." you express, looking down at your lap, and you know that you're only behaving this way because you're overwhelmed.

"i'm not." he promises, and he ducks just a little so that you're looking directly at him again. "i wouldn't be, especially not about this." he adds. "i just want you to say it again for me, can you do that? please?" he asks, and you hate how absurdly handsome he is sitting across from you. he's got this way of looking innocent even when he's baiting you, and he's always got this intensity in his stare that's enough to knock the wind out of you. it's kryptonite, and precisely why you concede.

"spencer, i love you." he groans, quietly, but you hear him all the same. he's kissing you before you can react, and it's easy getting lost in moments like these. he always kisses you like he's trying to swallow you whole, too handsy for his own good. his kisses are desperate, tongue swiping out just slightly, likely to test the waters. you match his ferocity, and let your own tongue drag over his bottom lip before you press a bit more forcibly, hurriedly, desperately.

"i love you." you don't know why you're saying it again, but it's not as hard as the first time. you kiss him again, grumbling when he's quick to lean out of reach. you shoot him a sour glance, and he's not moved.

"hey, i love you too." he echoes you in the most love sick sort of way. it feels precisely as you had described it earlier, and that makes you happier. the fact that the feelings didn't change, didn't disappear all because you'd said the three words back. you hum contentedly, and then your head is back on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "does it still sound like i mean it?" he asks, he questions you softly, like he's trying to preserve the moment.

"mhm." you answer quietly, and you strain to kiss his throat once, before your back to resting against him. "did it sound like i meant it?" you mimic his line of questioning, and you're happy when his arms are back around you. he's a lot more respectable this time around, but before long, his hands are finding their chosen place back under your shirt, exploring your waist and hips as you try not to squirm.

"yes." he replies, and you're glad to hear it. "can you say it again?" you suppose in the grand scheme, you do have lots to make up for. he'd probably want you to say it over and over again.

"i love you." it's instantaneous, as is the way spencer's hold on you grows more firm. you hadn't wanted to mention it, the way sitting here like this with him had you itching for more, but it seemed you weren't the only one in that headspace. "spence?" you question, and he's dragging his hand up and down your back, legs starting to bounce just slightly.

"yeah?"

"can we go back to before now?" you ask, and you expect him to be a tease. he could never just give you what you wanted, he always had to drag it out, and make you nervous.

"back to before?" he pries, and he's leading. you huff audibly, and you adjust yourself on his lap, trying to control the way the pit in your stomach seemed to grow warm, heating you up from the inside. "you'll have to be a bit more specific than that, love." he tsks, and you hate him.

"i just-" you frown, hating this part. "i want you." you deadpan. "and you know that, so i don't know why you're being like this." except you do, because it's amusing to spencer to watch you get all flustered and nervous. you don't know why, but it's how he is. you think that one day you'll try your hand at flustering him back, just to see what all the hype is about. "i want you to-" and you're not sure exactly what counts for too blunt with a boyfriend like spencer. "let's f-fuck, okay?" and spencer's got that stupid amused look on his face again.

god, you hate him.

"that wasn't too hard was it?" he questions, and you cut your eyes. you're certain he'll make you pay for the looks, and the smart mouth down the line, but you can't care right now.

"it was excruciating." you correct haughtily. "you should be ashamed of yourself for treating the girl that you love this way." you add, and spencer's got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he takes you in. you gulp, shuffling just slightly as you realize precisely the predicament you've gotten yourself into.

"do you want me to make it up to you?" he asks, and he sounds breathier than before, which only serves to make you more of a hot-and-bothered mess.

"i-" you blink owlishly, unsure of his intentions.

"yes or no?" he presses, and you think either way this goes, your done for. "you've just got to say the word."

"yes." head nodding, eyes blown to hell, it's easy enough. "you should. you definitely should." you respond, and then he's kissing you again. he's much more intense this time, stealing all of the air out of your lungs as his nails scratch against your skin, you hands moving to cup his face, you hope to keep him anchored to you this way. when he breaks from the kiss again, you're ready to lay into him, only to squeak when he scoops you up, standing up from the chair.

your legs immediately lock around his hips, and you're panting already, he seemed to have that constant effect. all it took was a little kissing, and you were already a mess. "i love you." he says this like it's a reminder, and you are quick to chase his mouth with your own. you could say you were a bit obsessed with the act.

"i know." you reply, and his eyes roll at you, but he still looks as love sick as you feel.

"good. i'm going to need you to remember that, because when we get to the bed, i'm going to do a lot of things that might make you think the opposite." he says this like a definitive promise, and you gasp. "do you understand?" he asks, and you're shivering, the anticipation already managing to strike you down.

"yeah-yes!" you stutter. "i understand, it's okay." you add. spencer's already got this look of pride residing in his eyes, and you know that you're in for it, silly you for thinking love confessions would be enough to get you out of all the backtalk and clear attitude. "i'm ready!" you insist like the eager girl you are.

"we'll see." he retorts.

god, you love him.

[legobiwan]

Another story idea:

One of the - and I hesitate to call them "issues" as I think the series is pretty complete on its own - but one of the loose threads from the end of Gravity Falls Season 2 I'd like to tug at is the ease with which Ford finds redemption after his return to his dimension.

On the surface, it seems like the only person he needs to work to reconcile with is his brother, with whom he can barely share a civilized conversation with until after the zodiac is broken and the elder Pines twins are left seemingly helpless in Bill's improvised prison.

And yes, Ford gets the kick in the ass he needs after his brother's memory is erased (at his own hand), as he realizes at that juncture just how much his hubris has cost him (even if he hadn't consciously valued the relationship with his brother before, there have been steady hints throughout the series and books that Ford values Stan in some way, even if he's shit at showing it).

But it's all...rather easy.

McGucket asserts that he's done forgetting and ready to forgive, even though he was probably the biggest victim to Ford's actions and ego throughout the entire series. (There was another post I saw around here about "hurt people hurt people." Bill may have been awful to Ford, but Ford was almost equally as awful to Fiddleford).

Give me a story where McGucket starts to gain back those memories - of his anxiety and panic and near-slavish devotion to a man who barely gave him the time of day. Give me a Fiddleford who won't take Ford back after this all comes back to light, who finally grows a spine and cuts ties with someone who mistreated him for years.

Give me a story where Mabel is outwardly enthusiastic towards Ford, but also afraid. Afraid that she's not enough for him, that she can't be her brother, that Ford will look down on her. Give me Mabel acting out in her most-Mabelest ways to try to both win over Ford and smooth out the relationship between him and Stan (and knowing she's a child coming from an unsettled home life, this hits all the worse).

Give me a story where Dipper realizes the truth of the old quote, "never meet your heroes." Where he finally come to terms with the fact that Ford is just a person - and a very flawed person, at that. A person who nearly sold the world for his ego and worse yet, held his grunkle and sister with little regard, held Dipper's own future with little regard except how it would benefit Ford.

And yes, finally, give me a story where Stan and Ford have the seriously hash things out. Where they ned to come to terms with their trauma from their youth (and the one thing I can't blame Ford for is what happened with the science fair project. Stan shouldn't have been there and he knew better. Stan also knew he was less than second banana to his brother his entire life, and his father made no bones about showing it. Say what you will, but an almost-18-year-old Ford was never going to react well to that situation, nor would he totally understand the consequences of Filbrick kicking Stan out at that age. Stan was also horrifically co-dependent on his brother, something his parents should have helped to sort out way earlier). Stan needs to sort his issues with both his (now-assumedly-dead) parents, as does Ford. Ford needs to come clean as to the who, what, where and why of Oregon. And Stan needs a reason to live for himself, and not for others - especially not his brother, from whom he has an almost desperate need for affection. (And you have to wonder, after 30 years...now that he's gotten Ford back, is there some kind of pit that's opened up in Stan, some raison d'être that's vanished leaving him uncertain as to everything in life, even with Ford vowing change and ships and adventures from his end. That's got to be one hell of a whiplash).

Anyway, what I'm saying is I love Ford but there's a ton he has to reckon with, and worst off, he has to reckon with other people if he truly wants to change. (And oh no, can I think of another two-dimensional being who may be going through the same thing in a time-warped psychiatric institution, hmmm, I wonder...)

[nar-nia]

heeseung x reader

word count: ~ 700

warnings: angst

“I just need to prioritize my work right now,” Heeseung shrugged.

“And not me,” you almost whispered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” You buried your face into your book again, shielding it from Heeseungs glance.

“That didn't sound like nothing. What is it?”

“It's nothing. Forget about it - just go back to your work.”

You could feel Heeseung staring at you for one, two, three seconds, but finally he nodded and put on his jacket. “Fine. I offered to talk.”

It didn't take long until you heard the door close, your hands gripping the book tightly as you tried to hold back your tears.

~~~

“Do you want to say what's wrong or are you just going to stare at your plate?”

Heeseungs words made you look up, you hadn't even realized that you just kept digging around with your fork.

“Oh - I’m just thinking about some stuff.”

“Can you hurry up please? You know I’m busy, I barely have time for this dinner anyway.”

You didn't expect to hear annoyance in Heeseungs tone, but it was clearly there, accompanied by the constant tapping of his foot.

“I’m sorry… I didn't know you had to go back to work again. I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“I’m meeting up with some friends.”

“Okay...” He hadn't even acknowledged your wish. “You can go - I can eat alone. Have fun please.”

You barely had time to react when Heeseung put on his jacket and almost ran out the door, the sound of your heart breaking perfectly timed with the closing door.

~~~

It was almost midnight and you were tossing and turning around in your empty bed. Normally you would have gone to sleep 2 hours ago so you could at least function at your job, but you had been waiting for Heeseung, wanting to spend at least a bit of time with him. But he hadn't returned yet, no text, nothing. You couldn't stop the feeling of loneliness spreading all around you, covering you in cold darkness as you grabbed your phone, texting Heeseung a little goodnight message.

~~~

1 am. No answer.

2 am. Still nothing.

3 am. He had seen the message, but no answer.

4 am.

5 am.

6 am. You heard the door opening, a clearly drunk Heeseung stumbling into your bed as you just got up to start getting ready. He didn't even say hello as he walked past you.

~~~

“Y/n, please move. I told you I need to leave.” Heeseung groaned, his whole body screaming exhaustion. You were standing in front of the door, tears already welling up in your eyes as you just stared at him, trying to find the right words to say.

“You could make it less obvious that you don't care about me, you know,” you finally managed to get out.

“What?”

“I don't know what I did that made you stop liking me. Or stop wanting to spend time with me, but whatever it was I am genuinely sorry.” It was getting harder to hold back sobs, but somehow you managed. “I’m sorry, but I hate this. We have barely talked those last few weeks, you always say you're busy. Everything else is more important to you than your own girlfriend!”

“That's not true.”

You stared at him. “I understand that you're busy with work. And I understand that you want to meet your friends. But is it really too much to ask for some time with you too?”

“I haven't seen my friends in a while. You should understand that,” Heeseung huffed. “They're important to me.”

“I should be important to you too, Heeseung,” you mumbled. “I have barely seen you too.”

“You are.”

“Am I?” Now the tears were really flowing. “Because you're doing a shit job at showing it. And it makes me feel awful. I hate myself for how often I stare at my phone or the door, hoping you’ll come to spend some time with me. I can't do this anymore.”

Heeseung just glared at you. “Do you want to break up?”

“Do you? Because it doesn't feel like you want to be around me at all.”

“Answer my question first.”

Oh. Your heart sank, a sob breaking free. “I just want to spend time with my boyfriend.”

Heeseung nodded. You saw it almost in slow motion, the way he put on his jacket and walked towards the door, going right through it as you stumbled to the side. He had made his choice.

feedback is always appreciated <33 i'm sending you all a big hug.

[duplicitywrites]

Thank you so much for replying to my other ask! I completely understand not wanting to revisit a fic you had wrote when you weren't doing the best, and I hope you're feeling better now! 🩷 I adore 'evermore' so much even though it's quite depressing aha 🥲 The way you wrote Harry's mental health and escapism was so good and Id love to hear some spoilers if you were up to it 😅

One thing I love about fanfic is the freedom of it all, and like you said "What is fanfic if not an ode to writing that felt unfinished?". Your interpretation of Harry as an abused child at his core in works like "damaged" always get to me. It always felt weird in the HP book series that Harry had such an awful childhood and was as well adjusted and happy in the future.

Another one of your works I was really interested in is 'perfect boys with their perfect lives', the Harry/Cedric aka a certain dark lord one. It really had me thinking about what could have happened in the graveyard if Harry hadn't escaped 🫣

i am, thanks! it was around covid, which was an awful time for everyone i'm sure, with weird life stuff piled on top of it.

i was going to answer all of the ones you mentioned, but evermore is actually one of few stories i have planned out in detail. this is why it has a planned chapter count (though that hasn't stopped me from going overboard before lol).

i guess i'll just give you the whole thing in case i never finish it kljsdgkljdgs it's pretty long, so under a cut it goes! but first some context for everyone else:

🍃 Evermore

Tags: Alternate Universe, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Manipulative Relationship, Infidelity, Past Child Abuse, Dream Sequences, Depression, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Plot Twists, Happy Ending, Surprise Ending, Healing

Summary:

Harry is a married man who is living a charmed life. He has no need for the fantasy potions gifted to him by the Weasley twins—or so he thinks. After falling asleep on the train ride home, Harry dreams of the perfect man, a man named Tom Riddle. As Harry explores his dream life with Tom, he realizes that his actual life is not as charmed as it seems. The pristine image of his faultless marriage shatters, revealing a darker reality, and Tom Riddle becomes an oasis, a sanctuary for Harry to escape to. However, no sanctuary is eternal and no oasis is truly perfect. Harry must eventually confront his demons, inner and outer, before he can find real happiness for himself.

Notes:

these notes are arranged in order from where the most recently posted chapter left off.

there are probably some divergent points that occurred during the actual writing process, but this plan below (i'll admit i'm not quite brave enough to reread it all) is what the general storyline will be.

-

reality four - right where you left me

maybe harry's been harbouring fears of his potions being found? :thots: or his husband's made note of his changes in behaviour, accuses him of not spending time/being devoted

they get into an argument where harry gets a looooot of shit for stuff he doesn't deserve to get shit for, stuff that's not even true

harry yells back but gets hit, idk if by magic or not :thots: and he backs down, distraught. then once he's alone, he goes straight for the dream world

dream four - no body no crime

it'll be a much shorter version obviously, and the character roster won't be the same

i hadn't nailed down the specifics of the background and so i'm not sure how it'll look, exactly

harry is NOT married in this dream, he knows dream-husband but they are only friends

dream-husband is ginny's role in this particular iteration

but the climax of this scene is where harry is snooping around in the house, where he happens upon the dream-husband's diary

he's been looking for evidence to prove the murder

harry reads through the diary

and in the diary are tragic entries describing depressive thoughts, details of emotional (maybe even physical) abuse, etc.

this is a pivotal moment for harry, who up until this moment has been in denial about the failings of his real life marriage

reading this in the framing of it happening to someone else is enough for him to realize that it's wrong

what happens to him is not okay

but of course it's not that easy to just, shrug off years of marriage all at once; harry once again exits the dream, thus ending that particular dream universe

he's partly in denial but it's not as bad as before

he's been using the dreams as a coping mechanism up until this point

i've made it sound kind of frustrating but the dream worlds that harry goes to are meant to be very lush, romanticized

while we realize that harry's dream worlds are not ideal, he doesn't realize it right away

he thinks he's still doing something wrong

reality five - coney island

uh so next is probably another real life scene which shows tension between harry and his husband, only harry is no longer acting the way he did before aka accepting things without question

after the dream, harry starts to... notice things. he picks up on the slights, on the manipulative behaviours. he doesn't argue back for most of it, because he's still figuring it out and he's in shock, but he does start acting differently, which is noted by his husband

it escalates things further, a landslide of 'harry is no longer listening to me, is no longer under my control' type of deal where it results in more attempts to manipulate, which harry now sees is bad

voldemort grew addicted to power, made deals with politicians, gained a following

he looks back on past events and picks out the red flags, realizes that his marriage is not a marriage of equals. but just because harry knows these things, doesn't mean he knows what to do. he goes back to the dream world for comfort/answers

dream five - cowboy like me

this one is 'cowboy like me'

harry is there with his husband staying at a hotel, they happen across dream-husband, who is a con artist attempting to swindle an older woman

either harry is also a con artist in a similar vein, or he is mistaken for one - i'll probably decide once it's written out and i get a sense of the vibe

but he and dream-husband have some interesting conversations, flirting, etc

the theme of this dream i think will be further strengthening the similarities between harry and the dream-husband he's made up in his head

this dream ends with a bittersweet farewell

something along the lines of, despite their attraction for each other, they must part ways? :thots: or some other thing

but there will be a bit of a cheeky 'see you soon'

aka referencing the fact that it's a dream/dream world, that the dream-husband is a recurring character in harry's mental space

reality six - happiness

harry's down to two vials now, the bittersweet farewell of dream five has him realizing that time is running out in the metaphorical sense; we understand that soon he will need to make a choice

i might loop back to infidelity at this point, maybe in an attempt to bring harry to heel, his husband starts flaunting an affair? :thots: cause in the past, flirting with other people probably worked to make harry upset and easily manipulated

but y'know now harry is armed with his brand new knowledge of Marriage Should Not Be Like This and also he's got some shiny self-worth stored up, courtesy of dream-husband

dream six - ivy

in this dream world, harry is married to his current husband, but he is having an affair with the dream-husband; not in the sexual sense, but in the emotional sense. drawing on the dream five, harry is seeking comfort and solace from his bad marriage

this dream is meant to remove more of harry's doubts and encourage him to see that his current situation is bad

and i imagine we start to break through the fourth wall; dream-husband speaks directly to harry, referencing real life events that have occurred

he encourages harry to leave

harry is doubtful, obviously. this is all he's known and he's been gaslighted, manipulated, mistreated

he's terrified he will be found out and punished for it

but the dream-husband reassures him, promises him that things will be okay, etc.

he makes harry promise to take care of himself

and i'm thinking in true romantic sense, maybe they spend the night together? :thots:

reality seven - closure

we solidify that harry deserves better, that what has happened is not his fault, etc all the important, healthy things

we have harry reaching out to the people that have been slowly pushed out of his life (mostly by his husband). he’s reconnecting with them, being healthier, i think this section would end with harry going to ron and hermione and telling them the truth, telling them everything

harry is down to his last vial, so he's been saving it

like, he could obviously go and get more, they would give it to him for free, even, but you know it's kind of like

he shouldn't have to rely on that as a coping mechanism any more

dream seven - evermore

i'm thinking harry goes for one last dream, they sit together outside(?) or somewhere else that has significance for harry

they hold hands, harry talks about how much the support has meant to him, what he's learned about himself, what these dreams have taught him

sometimes things don't work out

he knows he needs to walk out and move on

i'll probably cry writing all this so you know it'll be good

the end - it’s time to go

then like i mentioned before, there will be a scene of harry signing divorce papers. his friends are with him, telling them they support him, and he feels... relief. he feels hope.

the story ends with harry attending a party, this time by his own decision. he's here to genuinely mingle with people, with his friends, and have a good time

and then he sees someone

much like the previous dream, it's someone who he once knew

they talk, they catch up, but this time it doesn't feel odd or uncomfortable

harry feels secure with himself, and we end on the hopeful note that this could go somewhere good

[haveihitanerve]

Lucien's hands slackened at his sides. His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, "You're my mate."

reminder that Lucien did not growl these words to elain. He did not scream them, he did not bellow them, he did not order them onto her like a possessive claim. He whispered them, voice breaking, in shock and awe, as he realizes that she is his mate, not Jesminda. He whispers them, heart shattering as he realizes what she feels. Rhys said Feyre was as good as shouting her emotions, her thoughts, her feelings down the bond when she didn't shield. perhaps it because rhys is a daemi. or perhaps its just because feyre was newly fae. lucien can feel elains thoughts and feelings just the same way rhys can hear and feel feyres.

reminder that lucien went to elain, slowly, gently, breaking the wards that the fucking king of hybern had placed on him to keep him at bay from helping, and wrapped her in his jacket, to shield her, to cover her, to warm her.

reminder that lucien left the spring court, the place that had been his home, his whole life for a very long time, not because he wanted to claim elain, but just because he wanted to see her. just once

reminder that he left the night court when elain was clearly not okay, offering her space and time, understanding that he was not what was right for her, even if it tore at him. (rhys says how much harder the bond affects males to females)

reminder that lucien was feyre's first friend in the fae realm

reminder that Lucien's eye can see through glamours, and yet he still did not reveal Feyre to Tamlin

reminder that Lucien Vanserra is a good male who does not deserve a single piece of fucking shit the fandom and sjm has thrown at him. he watched the love of his life be beheaded in front of him, by his father, while his brothers held him back. he watched who he thought of as his best friend trap his actual best friend and was powerless to stop it. I fucking love Lucien Vanserra, the Sam Cortland of the ACOTAR series, and if you don't, i don't think we read the same books

Lucien Vanserra is what would have happened to Feyre if she hadn't found the Night Court

[an-aura-about-you]

you know what makes the work day better? suffering beforehand! is there anything that could happen to me on the clock that could be worse than Handbook for Mortals?

(not worse than reading Handbook for Mortals, mind. as awful as this is and as pissed off as I'm getting about how the book treats Sofia, I am enjoying the actual act of reading and documenting this. I knew belligerence for fun was a thing, but I didn't think it was a thing I was capable of.)

anyway, Handbook for Mortals Chapter 5 time:

when we last left our hero, Scheherazade just saved Sofia's life by pushing her into a pool instead of using her magic to save her. remember how I said the magic is here the way coffee is present in a coffee shop au? this is exactly the sort of thing I mean. and nobody gives a shit that Sofia nearly died and fully intend to blame the entire incident on her even though there should be at least two other people on the hook for the blame.

also, this happened due to some kind of glitch that set the platform off spinning when it wasn't supposed to. I don't think this glitch is ever explained, but what if it's a Dresden Files thing where some technology just doesn't get along well with Zade? if that's the case, then the notion that this is Zade's fault is actually true. but even if it's not, it does feel telling that this glitch that nearly resulted in someone's death is such a minor part of the story that I don't trust it's going to be resolved in any manner.

anyway, Chapter 5: The Emperor

-we're actually starting this chapter with an italics segment. something I hadn't mentioned about these is that Handbook for Mortals uses the triple moon symbol everywhere, in particular before these segments start. so the chapter actually starts with the triple moon symbol right after the chapter title. it's weird.

-Zade is still here to explain things, though, like how Vegas shows don't take traditional weekends. I mean, idk, maybe it's because I'm older and have had a number of jobs where I had to work weekends, but it seems like the population of people who regularly get Saturdays and Sundays off from work is just not enough to merit this explanation. and I'm saying that as someone who DOES have a traditional weekend with my current job!

-we once again have some unusual word choice as Zade describes her profession "this so-called 'entertainment business.'" you realize that sounds like either someone who thinks very little of what you're doing as a career or someone being evasive about their job as a stripper or a porn star, right? and lbr, I would find a stripper or a porn star more respectable than anything Zade is doing. at least they come by their work honestly.

-anyway it's night after Sofia's brush with death and we're at a birthday party at a bar. Mac is off sitting by himself drinking a beer and thinking about Zade because the narrative can't honestly bring itself to care about the rando having the birthday.

-Sofia is here too some 24ish hours after falling 50 feet into a pool and literally drowning, and she is bringing a beer to the technical director who watched all of this happen while he was on the clock and did nothing about it.

-I stand by what I hypothesized before. Sofia is a witch who's unaware of her powers so far. they were awakened due to Zade's proximity and right now that energy is focused on her healing.

-"That was quite the spill you took last night," Mac says about Sofia's near death experience.

-Sofia herself glosses over what happened by saying she's a quick healer with good genes. I'm telling y'all, witch. but also possibly PTSD. most likely PTSD.

-Charles isn't here by the way. Sofia went to this event without him. his girlfriend nearly died yesterday and apparently he also doesn't give a fuck. I wonder if Sofia came to the bar because she knew about Drew's birthday and didn't want to be alone considering how much everyone she works with does their best to not be around her. she and Mac have some back and forth about how Charles doesn't do birthday parties, but Charles couldn't even suck it up enough to be there for his girlfriend who nearly died yesterday? weak.

-Mac tells Sofia that Charles doesn't know how to do real social events and says the comment goes over her head, but Mac is the one who was sitting alone at a birthday party until Sofia came up to join him. between the two of you, Sofia has the better grasp of how to mingle at a party.

-though tbh if you put me in Sofia's shoes then the whole reason I would be sitting at the table with another beer for Mac would be, "If I get him drunk enough he won't be able to do anything when I go to pummel him with a bar chair." oh hypocrite me, I too have a violent streak.

-seriously, Sofia's here flirting with Mac and I don't understand the motivation behind it UNLESS she's doing it for revenge purposes. Mac points out she's taken, but that's worth a whole bunch of nothing if Charles doesn't care that his girlfriend nearly died yesterday.

-omg Mac straight up does the bit like in The Room when Mark tells Lisa she's beautiful but they can't sleep with each other anymore. (they then proceed to sleep with each other for the rest of the movie.) this is what we're doing, we're trying to make Sofia into Lisa from The Room. and I can't believe I'm saying this, but Sofia isn't even as bad as Lisa. yes, Sofia is flirting with Mac, but we don't have any evidence that she's slept with anyone besides Charles AND their relationship isn't as serious as Johnny and Lisa's was in The Room seeing as they were engaged.

-"Would it make a difference if I was single?" ok, whether Sarem meant to do this or not, this indicates to me that Charles and Sofia are broken up in all ways except officially.

-also Mac's rejection makes it sound like he's only interested in dating for long term relationships. that does fit with what we learn later, but has nobody in this book ever heard of dating for fun? you're allowed to just have fun y'know.

-saying that also reminded me of Gone with the Wind, specifically Rhett floating the idea to Scarlett that it's actually possible to get married for fun and she could try that for a change. there's also the reference to Gone with the Wind earlier in the book leading to me having this tangent. it's possible that Sarem is trying to establish a relationship similar to that of Scarlett and Melanie's with Sofia in the Scarlett role, but that doesn't work because Zade is nothing like Melanie. NONE of the characters in this book are anything like Melanie.

-I want to take a second and point out that Drew's birthday cake gets more description about what it looks like than Sofia does.

-back to Zade at work and she takes a moment to mention the theater is kept at 90 degrees. that just sounds awful. I would not be going to this Vegas show, especially not if it's a full house as it's specified earlier the theater can seat an audience of 2,000. god, can you imagine the sweat and body odor?

-also we've apparently skipped ahead a few weeks. Zade and Mac are no longer in the enemies stage of their relationship (which I will remind you consisted of only one spat, one and a half if we're counting Mac getting pissed off about Zade trying to tell him about her premonition in the last chapter) but rather in the budding friendship/burgeoning lovers part. so instead of getting a nice build of their relationship, it's more like we're on a cooking show and Sarem has set the prep aside to pull out the finished dish she made ahead of time.

-for someone who doesn't mind tossing name brands in here left and right with proper capitalization, it seems weird that Sarem forgot to capitalize the candy Red Vines.

-Zade also brings up that Mac stopped asking about her trick again. like, we know this. he said he was going to stop in the last chapter. YOU'RE the one who keeps harping on and on about your own stupidity in this matter.

-this whole scene exists so Mac can invite Zade to the next company camping trip and have awkward flirty times by the way.

-we've also had a few reminders that Mac doesn't date performers as a rule. we'll get more information on that later, but it seems kind of arbitrary. I mean, I know what happens because again, not going in blind, but it seems like that should just be "doesn't date coworkers" given the circumstances. if he doesn't date performers, does that mean Beth the lady who works as Spellman's assistant from back in Chapter 1 has a chance?

the chapter ends with another italics scene that was just Tad teasing Mac about liking Zade. bleh.

[mermaidsirennikita]

So I saw your tags about how the Ravenel series is a bit mid, and I don't disagree despite liking some of them a lot? Marrying Winterborne was my first intro to Kleypas, and it fucks real hard, I love it. I have a soft spot for Chasing Cassandra because I enjoyed Tom in previous showings, and I found their dynamic compelling.

But I didn't even finish Ethan's book because I couldn't be arsed, and I bought West's and wished I hadn't I was so incapable of getting into it. Anyway, this is all to say that you're not wrong, and are in fact generally right.

(In positive news tho, re: Marrying Winterborne, never gonna be over the scene where she agrees to fuck him and then after she's in the bath and he's like "I'm changing her agreement" before realizing "Oh shit, I've made this woman panic, fuck shit". Anyway, have a great day.)

"you are not wrong, and are in fact generally right" I sincerely love this lol, it sounds like something I would say to a friend of mine

Marrying Winterborne DOES fuck so hard, and I think that because of this, the series in general gets a strong rep than maybe it should...? Because in terms of popularity, I think Rhys is absolutely up there with some of Lisa's top heroes--people like me who prefer her older books love him, people who prefer the Ravenels adore him (generally). I don't think I've met a Kleypas fan who doesn't love that book, though I'm SURE some don't. And you do really need to read Cold-Hearted Rake for the background of MW (the first time I tried to read MW I did it without CHR and was like "this fuck is this"). I wonder if this is why CHR gets so much flack? Even though, and I will die on this hill, it's PROBABLY better than Devil in Spring and definitely better than Devil's Daughter and Hello Stranger? (I really need to give Chasing Cassandra another fair shot because I remember very little of it; I think the one-two punch of Hello Stranger and Devil's Daughter, two of my least favorite Kleypas books, made me very burned out when I read it.)

Ethan's book was very disappointing to me because I actually was very excited about Garrett as a heroine beforehand. And I do.... wonder if Kleypas changed plans, the way she famously did with Scandal in Spring. Because there's a scene in... MW I think? Where Garrett and Tom have like, an arm wrestling moment, that makes me wonder if the original plan was Garrett/Tom. Again, I need to reread Chasing Cassandra to really experience THAT pairing again--but I do think Garrett/Tom would've been more interesting than Garrett/Ethan.

I mean, HS was also fucked from the jump because it had that really racist "Ethan got his sexual education from an exotic Indian woman" thing, which shocked people into calling Kleypas out, and I think triggered the Great Kleypas Editing Hackjob. Which, by the way--it does speak to how much name and expectation matters, because while what Kleypas wrote into that book is absolutely awful and unacceptable, I feel like it's portrayed as this shameful anomaly when I can think of at least one smaller name (but still notable) author who wrote a historical with a MUCH worse depiction of India around the same time. Which doesn't excuse what Kleypas did, I just dislike the idea that Kleypas was the only one doing that in the 2010s, when that's faaar from true. Historicals still haven't figured that out, and sometimes I think the recaps of how the Hello Stranger issue was handled read very "look Patrick, we saved the city" because the biggest name got dogged into apologizing/editing. Either way, Hello Stranger is mid without that content and it's gross with it, so I usually put it at the bottom of my rankings. Either way, it ain't up to par and I can't judge it fairly in its edited form at this point.

Devil's Daughter is just Not Good. And I will take my lashings from everyone who loves that book, because everyone loves Kleypas soyboy West Ravenel, and I just have to say--do these people like THE BOOK? Do they like PHOEBE? Because everything I see is all about West West West and even if I was into West, which I Am Not, I feel like there has to be more to a book that's being upheld as one of her recent bests than "I love him". Sorry, the plot of DD is boring at best and lame at worst. Phoebe hates West because he was her dead husband's childhood bully, and I do mean childhood? And sorry to Phoebe's dead husband, but he's dead and fictional and I never met him and I don't care. And West is a less interesting Leo Hathaway. He stopped drinking and realized booze was giving him the dad bod, so he's hot now (my kingdom for a dad bod historical hero). And now he's boring because he's not a rake anymore and has responsibilities, but like? He just sounds like a fuckboy before his redemption lmao. Like a bit of a wastrel. Leo Hathaway was out there crying in a public sphere and giving great advice to Kev Merripen like "if you don't get with my sister, one day you're gonna wake up covered in tears and your own come and realize you have nothing but regrets" to which Kev goes ".... is that what.... you do...?" Leo Hathaway readily admitted to waking up on the regular covered in tears and semen. That's a true wreck.

And Leo is in itself the softer Kleypas hero type--other "redemption" heroes are like, Sebastian, who kidnapped his wife's best friend and threatened to rape her! Derek Craven, who was born in a drainpipe and fucked for money for years (not that this is anything to feel bad about, but he does) and owns a degenerate gambling hell lol. John McKenna, who comes to find his childhood sweetheart with the explicit intention of like, filling her belly with his fetid seed and siring a bastard on her so that she'll be humiliated forever I cannot. Why would I be impressed with West going "I was kind of a loser tbh" YOU ARE FINE. THIS IS BORING. GIVE ME ANOTHER THING TO CARE ABOUT.

But yes, I love that scene in MW so much. To me, a lot of MW's charm is that Rhys severely does not know how to talk to women, or romance them in a tender way (him fucking shit up with Helen with the flower situation is hilarious sorry). And he also does get legit douchey with Kathleen, lol. He very much gets a little threatening and is all "SO YOU WANTED A BIT O' ROUGH" and Devon has to do a mild Westcliff moment. Kleypas heroes: always mad when their best friends get sexually aggressive with their women, always ready to forgive after like a week.

[themoonsbride]

Can you do a Peter/Henry x reader based off the song Animals by Maroon 5?

oh my gosh, sorry it took me so long to answer your request, I've been trying to come up with ideas on how to write it and finally got my brain working so / sorry it's short

Animals. xo

warnings; 'hatred', competitiveness, cursing, eating disorder (I think?)

--×♥︎×--

You were speed walking down the hall quick to get into the rainbow room, you were late. which meant 2 things, Brenner would be on your ass about it later, and Peter would've already been there. He was so full of himself and sought he were better than other, clearly most didn't notice this, and if they did, they didn't give a shit. But you noticed, and it somewhat bothered you.

Why? no damn clue. When you'd first spoke to him, his tone. it seemed almost like he was trying to make himself sound better than you were. and quite franky, you decided that 2 could play the competitive game. So now you'd been trying to beat him before most things without directly saying to him that you'd beat him or were actually competing with him, but he knew.

he knew and he hated it. he didn't want someone to be 'better' then he was. Especially since you were another orderly, it just made it seem like more competition. He wanted to remain with his ego of feeling like the best.

You hated how competitive he could be, always watching your movements like a cat about to pounce on a mouse and tear it's guts out. The side glances that would constantly be shared, they'd always seemed like one was rubbing it in the others face. but after awhile it seemed like there was something else there too, something you couldn't figure out.

You entered the breakroom, to see Peter already there, you felt your blood boil, you didn't fully understand why you hated his competitiveness so much, or maybe it wasn't just how competitive he was, maybe you hated him for something else. something you couldn't figure, didn't want figure out. Maybe you were scared to find out.

You saw him smirking to himself, which only made you huff in anger. you were side glancing him with pure annoyance, but even when you felt done staring him down, you just couldn't seem to pull your eyes away from his figure. away from his blonde hair and his gorgeous blue eyes and -

wait what the fuck? why were you thinking this?? you were pulled away from your sudden realization to see not only Peter looking back at you, but someone was tugging lightly onto your hand, you looked down to see a tiny Eleven.

She was super sweet, confused and quiet yes, but sweet.

She was holding up a book towards you, it was a picture book.

"book" her small voice croaked, you put on a smile for her and grabbed it before going to one of the side benches and quietly reading it to her, she was cuddled up to your side while your arm was around her.

--×♥︎×--

It'd been around 2 more weeks, Brenner ended up being on your damn case about being late that one time shortly after you helped take the children to the cafeteria for lunch.

It didn't really matter to you, as long as you hadn't received the shock punishment, you could care less. but things around the lab had seemed, different, well, more so felt different. But you weren't exactly sure what it was.

It was lunch and you were in the breakroom, reading a book since the food was pretty gross and had an awful after taste so you didn't eat that much anymore. spending the 25 minutes you had reading were worth more than eating spoiled food.

Peter didn't come into the breakroom too often, assuming he probably spent his breaks in his room or something. It felt somewhat weird to spend your break in your room to you, because you only entered your assigned bedroom when you clocked out for the day, so it felt like whenever you went in there it was only meant for sleep. Maybe he did sleep for 25 minutes, maybe he didn't, but if he did, you didn't blame him.

Though you didn't eat the food, you still drank the coffee. it was practically the only thing your heart was running off of sometimes. which was extremely unhealthy but hey, who cares about health anymore when you're working for Hawkins Lab? they expirament on children for God's sake.

You found yourself distracted from your reading and thinking about Peter and what he possibly could've been doing before quickly shaking your head to wash the thought of him away.

Though the both of you had still been acting competitive, the energy of your competitiveness felt off now, it didn't feel like hatred. it felt like something else, but you just couldn't tell what it was. Was he feeling like this too?

You supposed you didn't mind be competitive with Peter anymore. It gave you something to look forward too, something to do in the first place anyway that is. It helped keep your mind occupied which was appreciated, though you'd never say that to him in a million years.

--×♥︎×--

Now whenever Peter wasn't around, you felt bored, and like something was missing. It felt like you were just constantly being watched, to which you were, but when Peter was around and you would both silently try to get to meeting before the other and get to the rainbow room or could clock out before the other person, it distracted you from the fact you were being watched, and how awful your job actually was.

Recently you could tell he must've felt the same way too, because whenever you'd enter the room, it'd seem like his shoulders would drop, as if his muscles were resting instead of tensing. There would still be glances that you would always do between eachother, but they were definitely different now rather then before.

It drove you absolutely crazy.

but you just didn't understand, couldn't understand. Why was the hatred you had for eachother missing? why did it exist in the first place? was it even real hatred from the beginning?

Did you both go from hating eachother to secretly loving eachother?

[v-v-void]

Realized today that my "special Interest" is also the thing I started researching daily because it was the only thing I could do that didn't completely piss my abusive ex of. The only thing I could do on my phone that wouldn't start shit. I couldn't talk to anyone without it being an issue. Playing games on my phone felt like... idk it made the days drag on. It made living life feel more like running on a hamster wheel and that didnt help my situation but it was a way to pass the time without setting him off. Mind you everything i set it him off abruptly. I had lost any interest in books. I couldn't write. I got a really nice paint set, pastels, water colors and an easel because art class was the only class I'd go to and passed. I didn't even get a chance to use it because I brought it to his house so I had something to do while he played his x box. But anytime I talked about wanting to try it, he would either make fun of me or tell me I wasn't any good anyways so why would my mom even get it for me. Still to this day. I'm obsessed with the way oil pastels feel in my hand. How smooth it goes on a canvas. The way you can blend them together and everything looks soft. The way you can change your strokes and the texture changes. Even the way it looks when you drag a paper towel across it. Ugh. I suck at art but I love it. Painting too. But pastels will forever hold a spot in my heart. And I haven't touched any since before I got the art supplies back then. It's the only thing I wish I went back for or asked someone to grab for me. But it wasn't worth it.

With that being said. It didn't matter what I did. His moods were so.. unpredictable..

Any who. Astrology. That was my thing

Never felt much like a Leo. Still don't most of the time. But at least now I know why. Now I see more than just the basic sun sign and I can never get enough. Still to this day.

I'll just sit here and save post after post and compare it to stuff I've already learnt. And yet I go blank when anyone asks about it because I'm afraid to sound stupid. The odd time someone asks and pushed for me to share a little.. I will go off on a tangent, get embarrassed, feel like I don't make sense and then I'll wish I kept my mouth shut and pretended I didn't know anything. At least then I wouldn't sound stupid because now I don't male any sense.

Fucking hell this guy messed me up. I'm afraid people will think I'm stupid for believing in it. I'm afraid I'll sound stupid or people pretend to care. Or they ask about it and I say I know alot and yet.. when asked.. I shut down. So how tf will someone believe me.

Same goes for when people ask about what happened and what he did to me behind closed doors.. I got told I had ptsd and I felt like that was absurd because he hadn't hit me.. the damage is so clearly there. And yet I still feel like people don't believe me. It's awful to say but I wish he hit me. Bruises heal... not this though. This dude lives in my head rent free and makes sure I'm terrified and second guessing everything and everyone. It's rare for me to feel calm. To feel comfortable. Or confident. I'm afraid to try because I don't feel good enough. I don't know myself because he turned me into a husk of a person. He fed on the power he had over me and I've tried to deny it but he still does. And I hate myself for that. I feel weak. And scared.. and just.. so fucking angry. How tf did I let someone who treated me the way he did, cause me to fuck up my education. And now I'm lost and stuck and I feel unsafe with everyone and don't know how to let anyone be here.. but I'm so tired and I just want to feel safe with someone again. Tf is wring with ne

[venndaai]

Poor Little Meow Meow Poll Round 1: Obscure Edition

On the left: PRINCE XAVIN (Super Skrull in training, Runaways member, Majesdanian General)

Qualifications:

child soldier with a brutal backstory

determined to end a terrible space war through a political marriage

thought a great way to go about this was to kidnap their unknowing fiance and try to kill her friends

when they found out she was a lesbian, transed their gender and told the humans it was no big deal for a shapeshifting alien

(narrator voice: so that was a lie)

robophobic

loves fighting

deeply loves their gf and friends and will sacrifice anything to protect them and to do the right thing :( my sweet baby

QUOTE: “I saw the blood flow as two worlds snuffed each other out. I saw the black hatred of generations extinguish themselves. My father killed a family of screaming Majesdanians in front of me when I was five. I cried so, I was left with the corpses for three days. I have no innocence. I have no ideals.”

On the right: FACILITATOR JOSEPH (company man, slimy little guy, cyborg with 20000 years of trauma)

look I know. I know maybe one other person in this universe has read and cares about these books. but I would've felt like a traitor if I hadn't included my most special little guy in this poll. the guy who made me realize how much I love when characters are pathetic cowards who lose every day. nobody does it like joseph companyseries.

Qualifications:

when he was 3 years old his entire community was wiped out by a violent cult, and he was kidnapped, brainwashed and painfully cyborged by a time traveling corporation that then used him as an immortal company slave for 20 millennia

builds his identity around being good at doing shady shit for the company

gets an email he's scared of so he doesn't open it for five thousand years

eventually loses everyone he loves through his inaction and cowardice

kins Wile E Coyote

his daughter hates him because he's a terrible dad <3 but he loves her very much <3<3

pined over a guy for 200 years while the guy pined for and wrote terrible rpf about Joseph's daughter's awful ex

got slapped by Greta Garbo

QUOTE: “I knew, in the back of my mind, why this was making me so sore. It had to do with this green place and another girl who'd come here once, whose life had been wrecked by a smooth-talking mortal man. That girl hadn't died here. She can't die, much as she'd like to. I couldn't help her. I never can.”

(Feel free to vote even if you don’t know the canons! Which one has bigger wet cat vibes?)

[acreepqueen]

Naga Boyfriend (Part I)

A/N: This is the re-vamp of Servio's story, but the old one (1, 2) is still up if you prefer to read that one! I hope this is an adequate way of returning to posting after such a long time.

You ran barefooted through the treeline, laughing maniacally. Was this one of the most rejuvenating, awe-inspiring, joyous moments of your life? Quite possibly, even if that was a little sad. Sneakers--not your own--in hand you sprinted away from Fred's shouts. If he didn't want to have his shoes stolen and left in some long forgotten spot in the middle of the forest, he should not have called you a whore for kissing the cute new owner of the cafe near your house. Not only did he bring up one of your idiotic alcohol-fueled moments, he did so disparagingly and not for a laugh. Absolutely unforgivable!

You stumbled suddenly feeling dizzy. You hadn't had that much to drink. Probably. As you caught your bearings a wave of nausea hit you and you gagged. Trying not to throw up ultimately proved futile. At least you were deep in the woods where no one could see you or care. These woods...you were sure you'd been told something about them while at the bar. You felt like it was important, but if you couldn't remember it couldn't have been that important. You groaned as you threw up again, both nauseated and frustrated. How did those idiots manage to convince you to come all the way out here and go drinking with them? Fred was always an ass when drunk and shit drinking-buddy for that reason exactly, but you expected more from the other boys and Vivian who'd immediately ditched you for a cute girl she spotted dancing alone. You wiped your mouth with your sleeve, only to realize the coat you were wearing was very much not yours, oh well. You popped back up and dropped the shoes--not in your vomit, that felt too cruel.

"What the hell are you doing?" a sharp voice hissed out from somewhere behind you. Thinking that Fred or another friend had followed to retrieve his shoes--which you'd conned him for fair and square--you panicked and began to sprint away.

"Wait, you idiot! Do you want to die?" the voice threatened. Damn, this person really needs to clip their nails, you thought as a hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could make your grand escape. You groaned and turned around to face your captor.

"Fine! You got me! Your stupid shoes are over there, next to the pile of my-" your words failed you as locked eyes with a pair you weren't familiar with. Not that you really paid attention to eye color, but you were certain you'd never seen a person with such bright orange eyes. He sneered, rebooting your brain.

"You are not one of my friends," you stated blankly. Maybe this dude would be nice enough to carry you back to the bar? You were starting to feel a little less woozy and a lot more sleepy. Shit, were you actually drunk?

"Obviousssly not!" he shouted, slurring his S's in a way that made your face scrunch up slightly. It was weird, though you wouldn't expect anything less from a guy you met in the middle of the woods. You yawned and his pretty eyes narrowed.

"Why do you look like that?" he prodded, poking you in the stomach rather unkindly. You groaned and struggled to process his words. Actually, what had he even asked you? Something about a book?

"Hm?" you responded sleepily. Having someone read to you right now would be nice, or even someone just telling a story. If you were curled up in a fuzzy blanket it'd be even better. You yawned and shut your eyes, merely savoring the thought. You might be impulsive, but it wasn't like you'd just fall asleep in front of a stranger!

The next morning you woke begrudging the awful humans you called friends for letting you drink so much. Your head felt like you were pounding it into the cement and the sunlight filtering in through the window felt like a spotlight beaming down on you. Not only did your head hurt, but your back and neck were sore too. Your mattress didn't even feel comfy! It was like you were laying on the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut even tighter and grumbled. Couldn't you have like five more hours? Did the sun really need to rise?

"Oh, you're awake. I wassssstarting to think you died."

Who, in the name of last night's fuzzy memories and drunken bad choices, was currently talking to you? You shot straight up and opened your eyes. That did not help your current state of unease. From the looks of the stone floor and ceiling, you were definitely in a cave. This was certainly a new predicament. You almost wanted to believe that you were kidnapped rather than the alternative; you'd willingly spent the night in a cave. This guy had better be smoking hot... The guy!! You'd completely forgotten someone was speaking with you.

You turned from the entrance of the cave to peer into the spooky, dark depths. It smelt kind of like blood. Had you been kidnapped?? It was impossible to see anything more than a large shadowy mass maybe ten or so yards away. Said suspicious mass spoke to you again.

"Well? Ssshouldn't you be offering me gratitude? I practically sssaved your life, foolisssh human," a voice said. His--you were pretty sure it was a him--pronunciation was quite cute. The words sounded almost foreign on his tongue and it seemed to be a struggle to pronounce his S's. Yeah, you could've very well followed him home with a voice like that while drunk, but to a cave? You could give yourself more credit than that. The way he claimed to have "practically" saved you also had your alarm bells ringing a bit. How does one "practically" save someone? It kind of felt like a bit of a stretch, even if you didn't have the memories to prove it.

"Thanks, I think?" you replied and he sneered. You heard a sound like a cloth was being dragged across the stone of the cave floor and the mass came nearer. Now just barely out of the sunlight, you could kind of make out his features. And honestly, you'd never in your life been more disappointed you couldn't recall the night prior. He had sharp, nearly androgynous features and dark long hair that you couldn't quite make out the color or length of. It stood out against his pale, porcelain skin. Yeah, you'd sleep in a cave for that. Hot damn!

"You think? I drag your sssorry asssss all the way to my home and thisss isss how you ressspond! I ssshouldn't have eck-eck-eck--" he started to snarl, only he stopped suddenly choking on his last word before growing silent. Did he have something stuck in his throat?

"Expected?" you supplied.

"Yesss! I ssshouldn't have--you know!" he exclaimed gesturing wildly with his hands, "...Any lessss from a human!"

He hadn't even tried to pronounce it this time. That was cute, absolutely adorable, even. Regardless of the sketch factor being rather high in this situation, you began to laugh. It made your head spin, but you couldn't help it.

"And now you insssult me!" he accused. You heard a genuine hiss leave him and watched as his dark, slender eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sorry if I offended you," you said, not sounding remorseful at all as another chuckle slipped past your defenses. His scowl deepened and you grimaced. He crossed his arms and glared down at you. You did not concede until the silence continued to drag on to a point where it was almost physically painful.

"Look, to be honest with you, I don't remember much of what we ended up doing last night. This whole 'saving me' thing is a little fishy if you ask me. Last thing I remember is doing shots at the bar and tricking Fred out of his sneakers. I--"

"Wh-what we did?!" he shrieked, cutting off my next sentence entirely. The sound reverberated off the walls of the cave and made you wince. Sure his voice was nice, but you preferred it about thirty decibels quieter.

"Did we not, you know...?" you questioned, making a rather crude gesture with your hands. He actually snarled at that, something you were only able to see because he had rushed forward to shake you by the shoulders.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?" he demanded. Orange eyes glinted ferociously in the sunlight, a color you were pretty sure people's eyes usually didn't come in. For the first time since you’d seen him this morning you glanced down at where his legs should’ve been. In there place was merely a giant ebony black mass of scales. It was a snake tail.

"Oh."

[malulls]

Mornings

Manorian roommates au

Masterlist

The sunlight streaming through the curtains was the first thing Manon noticed when she woke up. The side where Dorian's room stood allowed the sun to light part of the room in the morning, it was just calming.

Dorian's heavy breath was messing her hair, his chest was moving softly under her own. That plus the fact that she could stay the morning doing nothing with him was almost enough to make Manon wake up in a good mood.

The whole day in bed indeed. 

Her breathing failed, a shiver ran through her body, and stopped right between her thighs at the thought. Why did he have to flirt with her like that? She knew he was kidding, but her body apparently did not. 

She rolled her eyes. If he wasn't her best friend, she wouldn't blame herself for wanting to sleep with him. Who didn't? But he was, and not only that, but also her roommate, which only made it worse. 

It wasn't easy to avoid this when she had to deal with his stupidly handsome face every day, when he was all smirks, or when his hands were all over her in what should probably be soothing caresses, but only made her want those hands on other parts of her skin.

She almost laughed in anger. As if her life wasn't complicated enough, she wanted to sleep with her fucking best friend.

But when the impure thoughts were not occupying Manon's mind, she was always surprised at the comfort that sleeping with him brought her. Having him close like this felt perfect and it was not enough at the same time. 

Even if the situation that made them sleep together for the first time was awful, at least it had brought something good in the end. Things had gotten a little weird when they woke up the next day, especially for Manon, cursing herself for letting everything go wrong enough that she had been so vulnerable.

However, after that, it became normal for them to sleep next to each other, and the more that happened, the more sleeping alone became just awkward. One night she was lying in her bed and Dorian just walked in, no excuses, and told her to give him some space. Now they were in each other's bed every day.

And cuddling. Dorian had turned her into a fucking koala.

He had changed many things about her, in a good way.

Wanting him, being so close, despite the inconvenience, was not what really disturbed Manon.

That was when he tried to take care of her, when he did lovely small things that warmed her all over, or was simply there after all, and left Manon confused, with a racing heart and feelings that she didn't understand no matter how much she tried.

Asterin said that she was in love with him, but this only brought a bitter taste to Manon's mouth. She had spent a large part of her life hearing how stupid, how weak love was, that she would only be fine alone. And if it wasn't easy for her to just understand how wrong all of that was, there was things inside Manon that she wasn't sure if she could really change. She didn't know what it was like to love someone, not like that.

Besides, Dorian liked romance novels and love stories. He deserved something worth of a book, someone as kind as he was, not the mess her feelings were.

Manon sent all those thoughts to hell, sighing. She hadn't moved, and her morning was already ruined.

It was too early for that shit. Coffee would fix her mood. 

Dorian's hands suddenly began to move in her hair, and her body relaxed. She hadn't realized how tense she was.  

— Are you awake?

Damn Dorian and his sleepy voice.

— Yes — The word came out harsher than she had intended.

He flicked her ear.

— Are you in a bad mood already? Did the air bother you or something?

— I'm hungry.

She bit her lip at the excuse, ridiculous next to all the thoughts that were upsetting her. His chest vibrated beneath her as he chuckled.

— The more time goes by, the more I'm sure you're an angry cat.

— And you're a puppy who needs attention.

— And love.

Manon tilted her head toward him just for him to see her eyes rolling and quickly lay back down. His face was too close. 

Dorian yawned.

— Let me sleep for ten more minutes and I'll make pancakes for you.

She mentally swore her chest for melting. These things made her grateful for that task three years ago, otherwise Dorian would be just another person she would be totally indifferent to.

Her lips curled at the long hours they had spent together cursing the son of a bitch who had worked with them.

— Fine. — Her voice came out lighter this time.

His fingers stopped in her hair as he quickly fell asleep again, and Manon simply stayed there, this time getting lost in old good memories instead of vicious thoughts. But they led her to him anyway, and in the end the conclusion was the same.

She was fucked.

——————————

Taglist

@strawberries-and-reveries @zoyalovesbooks @whoever-you-choose-to-love @gwynkyrie @bookishwitchling @notyournymphetish @ladybookstan

[aprillikesthings]

Breaking my tumblr timeout for Lent, to talk about a novel!

Summer of Love by Lisa Mason

I read this book in 1996, when I was in high school--it was published in 1994. Found it at the local library, reread it a billion times, eventually bought my own copy, reread THAT a ton, lost it at some point. Recently bought a secondhand copy online (which has a Borders sale sticker on the back).

And I'm so mad, because I really really want to talk about this novel with other people, but I feel like I've joined a fandom with zero people in it. I'm just yelling on a proverbial streetcorner (well, the corner of Haight and Ashbury, proverbially speaking) about this damn book!!!

But this is too fucking long, so under a readmore it goes:

Hooboy. I never really realized how formative this novel was??? I still had a TON of the text basically memorized. Also, I am disturbed to realize a lot of my adult aesthetic is basically the cover of this book.

As one example, plz enjoy this Modcloth dress I bought several years ago:

Yeah. Anyway.

This is, in fact, a sci-fi novel. A guy named Chiron from the year 2467 travels back to 1967 because data from that era has disappeared, and he has to ensure a few Very Specific Things happen to save the future he lives in. One of the things he has to do is find and protect a young woman (who goes by the pseudonym Starbright). The two of them meet and end up crashing at the home of Ruby Maverick, who lives over the metaphysical shop she owns.

I was obsessed with the late 1960's for my last couple years of high school, and I regularly had adults ask me if I wish I could go back in time to live there, and I think I surprised them by saying "Oh god, no." Because this book (along with The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test) made it very clear that 1. That era sucked ass for a lot of women! Second wave feminism hadn't really started yet! 2. A lot of the popular drugs were new, and we just didn't know how good or bad they were. Doing LSD a few times in your life: unlikely to hurt you, if you know what you're doing; often a very positive experience. What people of this era sometimes did: took massive doses, over and over and over, while being careless about their history of mental health or the set/setting in which they were taking it, leading to things like bad trips, psychotic breaks, and multiple accidental deaths. Oh, and a lot of famous people (and not-famous people) died from heroin overdoses.

But back to the women thing: this book just made it so, so painfully clear that being a young woman in the hippie movement of the 1960's could be Really Unpleasant. Not all the men of that era were assholes, but lots of them were, and there wasn't much to stop them.

(I'm gonna be honest: I love this book, but if it were published now people would LOSE THEIR SHIT, because Starbright is a not-yet-15-year-old runaway who has sex with a man in his late twenties and, later, one who is twenty-one. The actual sex with the much-older dude is portrayed in a relatively positive light--she enjoys the sex and finds him desirable--even though the novel makes it clear that, generally speaking, he's a really shitty person who takes advantage of her and then discards her. The twenty-one-year-old (Chiron, the time traveler) is a lot nicer to her, and the circumstances are wildly different, but it's definitely portrayed as morally fine on both sides. There are also multiple mentions of and discussions about sexual assault and prostitution. The novel just doesn't pull any punches about how sexist and awful the hippie scene could be. In an older interview that's still on the wayback machine, the author mentions something I hadn't considered but now seems obvious--that the sexual abuse of children wasn't a thing people talked about that much yet in that era, and interviews from both at the time and later show that a TON of the teenage runaways that ended up in Haight-Ashbury were survivors of CSA and other forms of abuse.)

The author (in that wayback-preserved interview) said she was able to read stacks of local alt newspapers from that era (on paper and microfiche), books written just after the fact, and even talked to a shit-ton of people who were there--some of whom are really well-known, like Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane.

And the internet now has a lot more stuff on it than it did when I read this book the first time, which means I was able to look up a bunch of things that I have wondered about for years!

For instance: a TV special that was filmed in Haight Ashbury that summer and aired later that year is mentioned several times in the plot. It's real! It exists! It's on youtube! (I only got like twenty minutes into it, but man, were "normal" people confused and terrified by hippies.)

It's so wild to be able to google the commune that they visited at one point in the book, or the events the characters go to, or a lot of the people mentioned.

Because while some of the people in the novel are/were 100% real and did the things that are mentioned in the novel (yes, George Harrison and his wife stopped by the Haight once that summer, and George had on heart-shaped sunglasses lol), and some are 100% fictional (Chiron the time-traveler!), some made me think: this is probably based on a real person. There is far too much detail here compared to some of the other side characters.

In the novel, Leo Gorgon is a member of the Diggers--an anarchist group that fed people, started a free clinic, did public theater kinds of things. And some of the members were assholes, even with all the good they were doing trying to keep all those runaways sheltered and fed. Leo Gorgon is, in fact, kind of an asshole in the novel. (Not the same asshole who has sex with Starbright, though they're friends and Leo clearly thinks that dude's behavior is fine.)

And Chiron, being a time-traveler from the future, knows that Leo goes on to write two books (in one of which he says really horrible things about Ruby, the shop owner he was sleeping with off and on that summer) and then dies of a heroin overdose in the late 1970's.

But here's the thing: uhh. The Diggers were not a very large group of people. A lot of them were well-known. We know their names, is what I'm saying. So I looked up The Diggers on wikipedia, as one does.

Yeah, Leo is based on a very real person. Lisa Mason used his middle name and switched two letters of his last name and that was it.

And the "criticism of counterculture" bit of his wikipedia entry? Nearly every point on it is something he mentions in the novel/a plot point of the novel. (And he's not actually wrong, with some of them, imho; he's just kind of a dick about it.)

And now I have a secondhand copy of that dude's memoir in an online shopping cart. Because now I have to know if he really does mention someone who could be Ruby, for instance.

Also, have a photo of me on the corner of Haight-Ashbury that I got last month when I was in San Francisco to see Björk:

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Rainy Day Rescuer

Feyre Archeron x Rhysand - OneShot

Feyre gets locked out in the rain and fears she'll have to tough out the storm. That is, until a kind stranger opens his window.

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2130 words

*******

Feyre’s favorite thing about her apartment building wasn't the location or the free parking—although she did love that—it was the rooftop.

She’d lived in the building almost a month before realizing she could access the roof. The padlock on the door was apparently for appearances only, and it easily came off when she pulled on it. She figured out how to rest it back on the door so that when she was out on the roof the door still looked locked to anyone who didn't know better.

So far, she hadn't run into any of her neighbors trying to share the spot, but she knew someone else used it. Normally, she came up here to paint or to think and look at the stars. The view from the roof was lovely; she could see the city center and all the lit-up buildings, and the Sidra river that flowed through it.

The first time she set up her easel, one of her paintbrushes rolled away, and when she tracked it down behind an old broken crate she found a book had been carefully tucked away behind it.

Feyre couldn't help it when she picked up the book to get a better look at it. She glanced around quickly before chiding herself, knowing that no one else was out there with her. She recognized it as some sort of mythology retelling. Feyre flipped through it, trying to find some name or any indication of who it belonged to. All she found was an old receipt from a clothing store being used as a bookmark.

Spotting her runaway paintbrush, she grabbed it and put the book back where she found it.

That wasn't the last time she saw that book, and it certainly wasn't the last time she lost one of her paintbrushes.

In the next few weeks, every time Feyre went out to the roof she looked for the book.

It was always in that same place, hidden away so it wouldn't be noticed. But every time she opened the book the bookmark was moved a little further along.

She also started noticing annotations written in the margins. Feyre tried to imagine what this person must be like. It was odd, but kind of fascinating to follow along with this person’s progress.

She tried to focus on the fascinating part, and not the part that made her feel a bit like a creep for peeping into this person’s thoughts.

Except, when she made her routine book check that night, it was gone.

Feyre tried not to feel too disappointed. Why was she so invested in another person’s book? But it had become a constant that she looked forward to, and now it was gone. She could only hope they would start another one.

She laid out a thin blanket and sat down to look at the stars.

She must have dozed off at some point because she was woken up by raindrops hitting her face. It wasn't heavy yet, but she could tell it was going to start soon.

Ignoring the drizzle, she glanced at her phone. Feyre groaned and sat up, rubbing her face.

“Ugh, okay Fey, let’s call it a night.” She mumbled to herself, sleepy and moving slowly. She packed the blanket in her large tote bag and went to go back inside. Pulling on the door, she stumbled back a step. She was too tired, her grip was already slipping.

Feyre adjusted the bag on her shoulder and pulled the door again.

It didn't move.

She gripped the handle with both hands and pulled, hard.

Nothing happened.

“No, no, no, no, no…”

Feyre was wide awake now. This couldn't be happening. Shit.

She threw her bag down and used all her strength to open the door she ultimately knew wouldn't budge.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, she stepped back from the door.

“Shit.”

The rain was beginning to pick up.

“Really?!”

Lunging for her bag, Feyre dug around until she felt her phone. Gripping it, she unlocked it and was about to find someone to call for help...but she had no service.

How could she not have any service? Oh, gods, she was going to be stuck out on the roof, in the rain, until someone decided to come out there. It could be who-knows-how-long until that happened.

Spinning around, Feyre caught sight of her salvation.

“The fire escape!” Beaming, she grabbed her bag and ran over to it. “You beautiful, fantastic fire escape, help me out.”

Feyre managed to climb down the four stories of stairs and ladders without slipping on the slick metal. Gods, wouldn't that be a sight? She’d slip and come tumbling down the rest of the way, providing free entertainment to whoever walked past the building’s back alley.

When she finally made it to the lowest landing she tried to lower the final ladder that would bring her to the ground.

Only, it wouldn't move.

“Come on,” she muttered, still trying to force it down, “Don’t do this to me. I’m so close!” Feyre looked down to see the drop. Cringing, she admitted it was farther than she trusted herself to jump without breaking something—most likely her.

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed across the sky. Feyre pressed herself against the building as the rain finally poured down.

“Seriously?!” She shouted up into the apparent waterfall above her head.

A knock from behind her startled her enough that she jumped around and let out a loud shriek.

“Um, are you okay?”

A voice came from a window set into the wall that she hadn't noticed before with a man’s face pressed up against it. Through the rain streaming down the glass, she couldn't tell if he looked more concerned or wary at her appearance.

It took her a second to respond.

“No.” She tried to shake the wet hair out of her face. “I’m not.”

“Are you trying to go up or down?”

Ah. He was probably worried she was just some random person who decided to hop up onto his balcony landing.

“Down.” She said, trying not to think of how bizarre it must be for him to look out and see a woman stuck outside his window, sopping wet.

This really wasn't how she wanted to make first impressions with her neighbors.

“I got locked out on the roof and tried to get down the fire escape, but,” she gestured to herself and the now downpouring rain that was making this conversation difficult, “it didn't really work.”

She hoped he would offer before she had to ask the insane request.

Thankfully he did.

His eyebrows shot up and he seemed to finally notice how bad the rain was. Hastily opening the window, he gestured for her to come in.

“Come in, it looks awful out there.”

Before she could think better of accepting the stranger's invitation to literally climb into their apartment, she picked up her soaking bag from the grate at her feet and crawled over the windowsill, quickly closing the window behind her to block the storm.

Maneuvering to a standing position, Feyre took a moment to take a breath and thank whoever was listening for her unexpected savior.

She turned to face him. He was tall, she would have to crane her neck up if stood much closer. And he had vibrant violet eyes that the artist in her wanted to study.

“Hang on a second.” He left her standing in his living room. Feyre looked around at the sofa and tv that took up most of the space, the bookshelf propped against one wall, and pictures of friends on the wall.

The man came back in with a towel in hand.

“Here, try this.” He handed it to her politely.

“Thanks.” She quickly wrapped it around herself, trying to dry off and stop shivering.

“No problem.” He looked like he was going to ask her something when something on the bookshelf caught her eye.

“It was your book?” She gasped, pulling the familiar volume from the shelf. Feyre whirled around to face the dark-haired man who was looking at her warily. “You’re the one who’s been using the roof!”

He stepped closer to her and gently took the book from her hands, casually flipping through it. Flicking his eyes up at her, he asked, “How did you know about my book?”

Feyre could feel her cheeks heating and she could've sworn a smirk made its way across his face.

“I, uh, found it one day.”

“You found it?” he asked skeptically. “I hid it behind some old box, how did you find it?”

At least he just looked curious, and mildly amused, and not disturbed at her snooping. Yeah, maybe it was tucked away, but anyone who tried for more than a minute could’ve found it, so she didn't feel as bad.

Drawing as much pride as she could muster when she was dripping water onto this man’s carpet, she huffed, “It was a crate, not a box.” He grinned and she went on, “and for your information, I dropped a paintbrush and it rolled over there. I found the book when I was chasing my brush. I don't actively seek out other people’s things to snoop.”

His grin widened as she explained and by the end, he was chuckling.

“And here I thought you just really wanted to get to know my reading tastes.”

She scoffed, but hid a grin, “Yeah, sure. I don't even know you.”

As she said it, she realized it was true.

Besides the fact that he lived in her building and was kind enough to let her in from the rain, she had no idea who this man was.

It seemed he remembered the same thing as he gave her a charming smile and held out his hand.

“You can call me Rhys.”

“Rhys?” She raised a brow. She’d never met anyone named Rhys before.

“My full name is Rhysand, but,” he paused to wink at her, “the people I like call me Rhys.”

Feyre rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting but met his hand with her own.

“Feyre. Just Feyre.” She held his gaze for a few more minutes before they both dropped their hands.

“Well, Just Feyre, I think I have something for you.”

Before she could respond, he vanished into the other room. He had something for her? What? Was this some other lame attempt at flirting?

She’d let him flirt if he wanted to, maybe she was a little interested to see what he’d try.

But he came back out to stand in front of her with one hand behind his back.

“Yes?” She tried to peek around him, but he angled his body away so she couldn't see what he was holding.

Leaning in close to her, Rhys said, “I believe that is yours.” With a flourish, he brought his hand in front of him.

“My paintbrush!” Feyre couldn't believe it. She looked back and forth between the brush and the man holding it, “I’ve been looking for this one. I lost it weeks ago! How do you have it?”

Rhys smiled broadly at her as she took it from his outstretched hand.

“I found it near the back corner one night, it must have just rolled away from you. It looked like it could blend right into the wall.”

Ceasing her inspection of the brush, shocked that she had found it—that Rhys had had it—she looked at him and beamed.

He blinked, almost dazedly, as he watched her smile.

“Thank you!”

Without thinking, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. Rhys tensed, and at that moment Feyre remembered that she was still soaking wet from the rain. Wincing, she hastily pulled away before he had a chance to return her hug.

“Sorry. I got excited.” She glanced down to see the small puddle on the floor beneath her and cringed. “I should probably go.”

“Hm? Oh.” Rhys cleared his throat and nodded, “Right. You probably want to change into something dry.”

“Yeah.” They both stood there awkwardly staring at each other, not sure what to say next.

“Okay,” Feyre picked up her bag and took a step towards the door. “I’m just gonna...” She trailed off as she and Rhys pivoted around each other so that she was closer to the door.

He walked with her the last few steps, pausing when she opened the door and turned back to him.

“Thank you, Rhys. For the paintbrush, and for not making me stand outside like a drowned cat all night.”

His laugh made Feyre crack a smile.

“Anytime Feyre, darling.”

She smiled.

“Goodnight Rhys.”

He mirrored her smile.

“Goodnight Feyre.”

Maybe getting locked out wasn’t so bad, after all.

***

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[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter ten: "Set me free my honey bee"

Word count: 11,6K

Summary: Let's jump 19 months in time and see how painful it has turned for reader and Spencer to hide their feelings for each other. JJ leaves the team, and a new member joins the BAU.

Warnings: Angst and hurt. Fools being assholes. Cursing, of course. Mention of CM cases and spoilers on S06E11.

A/N: Please don't hate me. Just remember things usually look like the shit before they get worst, and then everything is better. I hope.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅༻❁༺┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

(Y/N)'s point of view

Time is a weird thing. I remember when I was in school and time didn't pass fast enough. Semesters were eternal. It felt it had been years by the time summer vacation arrived. The complete opposite happened to me at the BAU. Suddenly, time passed too quickly. A whole year and a half went by in the blink of an eye.

I told Spencer about it, and he sent me a paper published by Professor Adrian Bejan that presented an argument based on the physics of neural signal processing. He hypothesizes that, over time, the rate at which we process visual information slows down, and this is what makes time 'speed up' as we grow older.

My answer was that I thought it happened 'cos as we grew older, we did things that actually gave us joy, which made us feel the time was passing faster than before. So we argued a whole Saturday afternoon about it and created our own theories for that event.

My theory was my personal favorite, 'cos it was the only one that could easily explain why so much time had passed in the BAU, and it felt like it had been just a few weeks.

It hadn't been easy, though. Those nineteen months had been filled with some of the worst situations we had been through as a team.

After I got shot, JJ finally admitted her relationship with Will and got pregnant. That was shocking, the first BAU baby: Henry.

Sadly, Henry was the only little good thing that happened that year. Because to sum it up, a bunch of awful shit happened to all of us: Hotch was in a car explosion that almost killed him. Spencer and Prentiss got trapped in an undercover mission into an underground cult to investigate child abuse, and Emily was beaten up pretty badly. Also, Spencer got infected with anthrax and nearly died. That was probably the most agonizing moment I had lived since the whole Tobias Hankel situation two years earlier.

Also, that year Prentiss had to investigate the case of the death of one of her best friends, and I was in a pretty nasty fight with an unsub that got me out of the field for three weeks. Not to mention, Spencer was shot in the leg.

Hotch was stabbed by the only unsub that has actually won against the BAU: Foyet. He attacked Aaron and got on the lose for months, but we all knew his next move as torture Hotch's family. That's why his ex-wife Haley and his little son Jack had to go into protective custody, and he couldn't see them for months while we tried to catch Foyet.

Things didn't go as planned. And without a doubt, the worst moment that year was the day Haley died. Foyet killed her, and Aaron lost it. He literally killed him with his bare hands the moment he got him. For a solid week, I was sure Aaron Hotchner wouldn't be the unit chief anymore. Strauss actually opened an investigation related to everything that happened that day. But in the end, somehow, she understood the "bloodbath" that had happened in that house was all in Foyet's hands.

However, there's no way to deny that the whole team had changed in many ways after that year. The concept of being a family was now more present than ever. After chasing Foyet for months, we were all onto him as if he was chasing our own family, because he was.

You don't work this kind of job with a team like mine and don't get attached to them. And this goes beyond how in love I was with Spencer. The (Y/N) who first stepped into the BAU, scared to show her true self, was long gone. And despite my deepest fears, letting them in and showing them who I really was had been one of the smartest decisions I have ever made.

Do you want to know which was my stupidest decision? Falling in love with Spencer Reid. It hadn't actually been my choice. I just didn't fight the feeling either. I don't think I could have even if I tried, though. Those nineteen months brought us so close, my mom thought we were living together, and the teasing from our friends was so common we weren't even affected by it.

For Christ Sakes, even Strauss thought we were dating! She forced us to attend a seminar on fraternization, concerned after she realized we always took our vacation together. We had a lot of fun trips, though. First, we visited his mom and had an amazing weekend in Las Vegas. Then we took a few days off after the anthrax incident and went to Hawaii. Picture Spencer Reid in an "all-inclusive," drinking all the coffee and eating all the pastries possible while reading a million books underneath an extra-large umbrella. We had fun that week, did some local touring, but most of all, sleeping in and relaxing. Spencer hates the beach but got those tickets anyway.

Did everybody think we were a couple? Yes

Did it help that we shared rooms, 'cos we were already used to it? No

Did it feel like a honeymoon without sex? Yes

Could I stop thinking about sex with Spencer? No.

And all that led us to the nightmare our relationship was going to become.

Penelope Garcia was drunk. She kept pouring shots and pushing them to us. Emily was wasted as well. But she kept acting like the classy lady she is. Not like JJ. My poor baby had mascara smeared under her eyes after crying for like an hour.

We found out she was leaving the team, and it was a hard blow on us. And by hard, I mean the worst thing that had ever happened to us. We had suffered without JJ when she was on maternity leave. And we struggled without her. Now knowing the Pentagon had taken her away from the BAU was torture.

We had a goodbye party for her at Rossi's, but this was our goodbye girl's night, and neither of us was holding anything back.

We had cried, we had sung sad songs. We drank all the champagne, wine, and vodka we could find. And now, holding our tequila shots, we knew it was time to call it a night.

- "I just love you girls so much,"- JJ whispered, crying- I don't wanna work without you.

- "Boo, come here!!"- I opened my arms and wrapped them around my friend, kissing the top of her hair a few times- "I love you too, and you are going to come back so soon you won't have time to miss us. You'll see. Papa Rossi and Dada Hotch are gonna fix everything."

I was drunk. Seriously drunk. But that wasn't the reason why I was so sweet with JJ. The truth is, I was broken-hearted. Like Penelope and Reid, I didn't manage change very well, and the fact that JJ was forced to leave made me feel frustrated and mad. But most of all, it made me think of every time I had been a little bitch with her during the years. And I regretted each one of them.

- "And we won't be far!"- Emily added and caressed JJ's arm, smiling kindly- "You will still be in town, and we will not leave you alone"- JJ chuckled and nodded.

- "I know, girls. Shit, I love you all so much!"

- "We love you too!"- Penelope sobbed and moved closer, wrapping the three of us in her arms.

- "Please, take care!"- JJ wiped off the tears from her eyes and looked at us- "Emily, don't do anything stupid! Don't rush in the field, and please don't take your fucking vest off!!"

- "I won't! I promise!"

- "You have to live to be Unit chief one day!"- JJ added, and Prentiss widened her eyes, shocked.

- "That's not really my gold."

- "But you'd be queen, baby!!"- Jareau added and turned to Penelope- "And you, please make sure Hotch eats. I kept a stack of granola bars on my desk to keep him fueled during the day. He usually forgets lunchtime and skips dinner, so..."

- "Don't worry, JJ,"- Penelope nodded, and we all felt our heartbreak a little thinking about all the things JJ did in her daily basics to take care of the team, and we didn't even know.

- "How are we going to survive without you?"- I mumbled, pouting. JJ chuckled and held my hand.

- "You are a rock, and you will do a fantastic job keeping this team together. Just, please, can you and Spencer start dating now?"

I wide opened my eyes and stared at JJ. The comment surprised me. I shouldn't, 'cos the whole "you and Spencer should start dating" joke was getting old. Only this time, JJ wasn't joking. She held both my hands and looked right into my eyes.

- "(Y/N), he loves you"- I was about to argue with her, but she covered my mouth with her Cheetos smelling hand.

- "Don't say a word! Spencer loves you so much you really must be blind not to see it. And I know you love him too. It's implied in all the little things you do for him every day. So don't take it for granted. Don't think this will last forever 'cos look at me! A week ago, I was happily working at the BAU, and now I'm drinking at my goodbye party! So don't waste any more time! You are in love with Spencer, and he loves you! It doesn't take a profiler to see it. So please! Act on it!"

There was a dramatic silence after. I didn't know how to break it. I could just joke around, but somehow, it didn't feel right. It had been too quiet for too long, and that made everything harder to deny. Finally, Emily put her hand on mine, just like JJ was still doing, and smiled at me.

- "There's nothing to be ashamed of, (Y/N). You are not the first person to fall for her best friend."

- "And the Junior G Man loves you so much,"- Penelope added, landing her hand on our hands too.

- "As his friend"- I corrected and sighed. I guess that was it. After three years, I could probably start facing my feelings in front of my friends.

- "No, (Y/N)"- Garcia tried to argue, but I shook my head and stood up, 'cos all that sudden attention and affection was bothering me.

- "PG, I was in Hawaii with the man, sharing a room, walking around in a bikini, and he didn't do anything."

- "That's because he is shy!"- Emily excused him right away.

- "My bikini leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination. Do you know what he said when he first saw me on it?"- I looked at my friend and poured us another round of tequila- "And I quote, "I don't think I brought enough books. This one is too interesting."

I air quoted with my fingers as we spoke, and the three of them looked at me, speechless. I made my point and drank my shot, feeling the alcohol burning down my throat. My friends opened their mouths but didn't produce a word. I sighed and looked at them.

- "But he hates the beach, and he took you there anyway,"- Emily pointed out

- "Did he give you his speech about how he hates sandy food?"- JJ asked me, and I chuckled, nodding.

- "And about pink skin, limited and unengaging topography, and of course, the real reason he hates the beach: drug-resistant bacteria spread by seagull feces."

- "And the man took you to the beach!"- Penelope argued.

- "But he didn't do anything! he didn't make his move, didn't even hold my hand!!"- I nearly shouted- "That's why, among a lot of reasons, is how I know Spencer is not interested in me! If only I'd tell you all the shit we've been through!"

- "Please!! Tell us!!"- Garcia begged and grabbed one of my legs- "I won't live another day 'cos I won't be able to deal with the mystery!"

- "No! 'cos you are gonna tell Morgan"- I slurred- "And he is going to embarrass and tease my honey bunny, and my honey bunny is gonna get all nervous and nervous around me, and we are never going to..."- I stopped talking and looked at my friends. I was sharing too much.

- "(Y/N)?"- Prentiss looked at me, but I just shook my head and looked down.

- "I think I better go home."

- "No, you can't drive like this,"- JJ argued immediately and held my hand- "I'm not gonna let you go intoxicated. Will is gonna come pick me up, and we'll drop you in your place."

I nodded at her and stayed still. My friends smiled at me, and slowly very slowly, I leaned on JJ's shoulder and rested my head on it.

- "I love you, boo,"- I whispered, and she giggled- "I don't think I'll stay sane without you there with us anymore."

- "Hotch is gonna manage to get her back,"- Penelope assured me, and I just nodded.

- "Meanwhile, we won't replace you, and if anyone tries to push someone new into the team, we are not gonna take them,"- I added, feeling JJ's hand holding mine.

- "Don't be mean with people just 'cos you miss me. If there's a new teammate, it won't be their fault I was pushed out of the BAU."

- "But, JJ,"- I tried to argue, but she shook her head right away.

- "No, (Y/N). You can't be mean to people just because."

Clearly, my friend hoped I could be the better person. The simple question was: did I want to be the better person? Right there, drunk and sad, the answer was no.

Spencer's point of view

I kept finding myself awake at four in the morning, walking around my apartment, not able to read or to write anything. For the last months, at least twice or three times each week, I would stay awake, no matter how tired I felt, and I would haunt my own apartment, listening to my vinyl records.

The sudden lack of sleep wasn't really something weird in me. I have always been nocturnal. Besides, the news of JJ's departure had hit us all pretty hard. I had already shared my share of tears and tried to manage the fury that caused me to know we were helpless to the government's decisions. There was nothing we could do, neither us, Hotch, or even Strauss. Not that she would if she could.

My family was in crisis, and all we could do was hope for the best and stay together.

It was scary losing JJ. It made me think of all the things that could go wrong every day on the field daily. It was bad that we could get hurt or even die on our work. But that they divided us that way made no sense. Like Rossi said: our loss was someone else's winning, and in the FBI, no one cared if we lost.

I poured myself a cup of herbal tea and inhaled the smell of it. It smelled like home. Like (Y/N). She had some of her favorite teas in my apartment. She had a bunch of all her things there, actually. When mom visited, she thought we were living together. She is still sure we are dating and that I don't wanna tell her. I don't longer argue with her about it. It's useless, and it somehow feels good to imagine in another world. It was actually true.

That year my feelings for my best friend had grown in a way that made it all more difficult to deal with. I didn't just love her. I was in love with her. She was in everything I did, in each and every one of my thoughts. I could hear her laughter in my head, like a record playing my favorite song over and over again.

When she was out there in the field, I couldn't stop running all the probabilities of her getting hurt, and most of the time, I would do my best to keep her safe, knowing it could somehow interfere with the case.

Hotch had called me to his office a few times, aware something was going with me. He could read it on my face, I guess. It was scary to know everybody could read my feelings for (Y/N) but her. And it was sad to think of the worst: that she knew how much I loved her, but she didn't feel the same, and she was just being my friend 'cos she was never going to be anything else but my friend.

I drank my tea and hummed the song that sounded in my house at four in the morning: Love is a losing game. Seemed pretty accurate for my mood. I remember the day I got that vinyl. We were out with (Y/N), Frank, and Lu, looking for a present for Mikey's birthday, and we ended up in a record store, getting a million vinyl records for ourselves.

- "Are you getting all those?"- (Y/N) asked me and looked at the seven albums in my hand.

- "Yes, why? I can't?"- I answered and raised an eyebrow.

- "Sassy!"- she giggled and grabbed them- "You can get all the albums you want. But I have to give my approval first. No, you are not getting this!"- she grabbed The Beatles' Revolver and left it aside.

- "What? Why? It's only one I need to complete my collection."

- "I know, but when you get it, you'll force me to listen to it, and I don't like the Beatles,"- she argued, and I just shook my head, taking the album again.

- "Sorry, chipmunk, I'm buying it."

- "Fine. I won't go to your house for the next couple of weeks then."

- "Why don't you tell me which album you wanna listen to when you are in my house then?"- I looked at her, smiling at me and looking for a record on the shelves.

- "This! You need some Amy in your life."

And I did. Now, at four in the morning, all alone walking around, I could see her in my apartment, singing along to her favorite songs while cooking dinner, feeling at home. I wished she was there, with me, doing nothing. Watching tv, or reading. Just hanging out. I knew it wasn't healthy being in love with my friend, seeing her every day, and also hanging out with her every chance I got. But even when I knew she was never going to love me the way I did, I was going to take every chance I had to enjoy her company. If that was all I was going to get.

My phone took me from my thoughts, and I quickly walked to my room to get it. I thought it was Hotch announcing a case, but it was JJ.

- "Hey! JJ, everything ok? Is Henry ok?"

- "Yes, hi Spence. We are all ok."

- "It's four in the morning."

- "Sorry I woke you up... I just..." - she made a pause and sighed at the other side of the line- "Spencer, you know I love you."

- "I love you too. You are one of my best friends. Is everything ok?"

- "Yes, I just wanted to... remember a bunch of years ago, when you asked me to that football game?"

A million years had passed since the one and only time I had asked JJ out. It was the only move I tried to do on her, and I failed incredibly. It was awkward, and she had no idea it was a date, so she invited Garcia to come along. I was so embarrassed I never even mentioned that single event ever again, and our friendship grew after.

- "Yes, I remember, JJ. Why?"

- "When you asked me out, did you have a crush on me?"

- "JJ, are you drunk?"- I had to ask 'cos that conversation was starting to scare me.

- "Yes, but that's not why I'm talking about this. Just answer the questions, Spence. When you asked me out on that date, did you have a crush on me?"

- "Yes, I did."

I closed my eyes, embarrassed to face feelings that were far forgotten.

- "You see, I had a crush on you too back then,"- JJ said and chuckled- "But neither of us acted on it, and life continued, and now I'm in love with Will, and we have a baby, and you are his godfather."

Of all the things I thought I would listen to that day, never in a million years, I imagined I would hear JJ drunk telling me she had a crush on me when we first met.

- "Now, do you want that to happen again?"- she asked, and I didn't get it, 'cos I was still trying to process what I had just heard. So I might have had a relationship with her if only I had said something, act on it. Kiss her, ask her out again?

- "What?"

- "Spence. Do you want to miss the chance to be with the girl you like?"

- "No, but JJ, what are you talking about?"

She sighed, frustrated, and used that tone of voice with me, that very maternal specific tone of voice she used to explain things she knew were hard for me to follow.

- "When you like someone, Spence, you have to tell her. 'Cos sometimes, life gets in the way, and if you don't do what you have to do to be happy, no one will do it for you."

- "Are you ok, JJ?"

- "Yes, Spence, I'm ok. I'm home with Will. We just got here after dropping (Y/N) off her place."

- "How was she?"

- "She might have had a few too many drinks, but she'll be ok in the morning. Maybe she'd appreciate it if you brought her coffee and donuts."

- "She doesn't like donuts,"- I corrected her- "She likes cupcakes and brownies."

- "Sorry. Coffee and cupcakes... just tell her you love her, Spence. She deserves to know."

I held my breath and closed my eyes. I didn't get why JJ was telling me that, but I knew I didn't want to talk about it. So I said good night and hung up.

What was the point of telling me we could have been a couple of years had passed already? Why didn't she say a thing before? Or even better, why didn't she ever say a word about it at all? So I missed the chance to be happy with her. Great. One more regret to add to my list.

I laid on my bed and tried to remember that date. I was so nervous that day, my hands shook inside my pockets as I walked to JJ's door. She looked beautiful that day, especially when she looked at me and announced she had invited Penelope to join us.

That was when I realized she would never see me as a proper date, just like a friend. And I learned to make my peace with that over the years. My crush for JJ lasted a few more months, but it vanished when I fell for (Y/N). What if she had never joined the team? Would I have been in love with JJ forever? Jeniffer always made me feel like her little brother, and I guess that's the mechanic that works for us. We were good friends ever since we met, and yes, I had a crush on her, but we work more like siblings than anything else.

What was the point in telling me I had missed a chance with her now? I just couldn't see it.

(Y/N)'s point of view

The next few weeks were us trying to survive without JJ. The team was making the best it could, but it was hard. Penelope took the lead during the second case without JJ. She turned into our tech analyst and communication liaison, only to collapse under the pressure of having two roles.

No one was going to replace JJ. We all knew it. Literally, no one, 'cos Hotch decided he and Garcia were going to split the job, and we were all going to collaborate as much as we could, 'cos we were a team. A family. And that's what families do.

And families were the target of the unsub we were hunting the day everything changed. Again. I hadn't recovered from the departure of JJ when Rossi and Hotch walked to the bullpen and introduced us to Agent Trainee Ashley Seaver.

My nemesis.

- "Agent trainee Seaver"- Rossi smiled at her like a proud father and looked at us as we stood up, wondering who she was- "Supervisory Special Agent Prentiss, (Y/L/N), and Morgan."

- "I've heard so much about the three of you,"- she said with the sweetest tone of voice I had ever heard. Something about that felt odd.

- "I hope it is all good- Morgan flirted right away, of course."

- "Very, sir."

- "Anything specific? I mean about me in particular?"- I turned to him and failed in holding back my chuckles.

- "Please, don't encourage him, or he will never stop talking,"- I said, and Derek elbowed me playfully. Seaver smiled at us and even blushed a little bit. She was nervous.

- "Agent Seaver is on loan to us from the academy while she is remedial training with an injury."

Hotch announced. And my stomach tightened right away. There was something wrong with that whole scene. I could feel it in my guts. But I didn't know why?

- "Concussion. Hand to hand got a little out of control."- Seaver explained and kept a silly smile on her face.

- "How's the other guy?"- Prentiss asked.

- "Don't ask."

- "I was remediated in the academy also,"- Spencer said, walking over us, and suddenly I understood why I had a bad feeling about everything.

- "Agent Seaver, Dr. Reid."

As soon as I heard Rossi say those words, there was a part of me who just wanted to hold Spencer's hand and push him away from her, even before they could say hi. She looked at him like he was eye candy, and I clenched my knuckles as I stared at the scene.

- "Uhm... What was your issue?"- she asked him, and I could see the pink on her cheek intensifying as he looked at her, confused.

- "What was my issue? Marksmanship, physical training, obstacle course, Hogan's alley. You know, pretty much everything that wasn't technically book related. They ultimately had to make exceptions to allow me into the field."

Seaver stared at him and kept nodding, though I wondered if she was listening to what he had said. Spencer looked exceedingly handsome that day. His hair was very short for the first time in years, and he still had no idea how to comb it, so it was all over the place, making him look as hot as fuck.

I was so in love with him, I didn't know what to do with those feelings at all. It was hard working with Reid at that point. I just wanted to kiss him.

- "Agent Seaver's going to accompany us to New Mexico,"- Aaron announced, and I couldn't help but question him right away.

- "She is?"

- "As a consultant."- he assured me.

- "On?"- Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at Hotch, wondering what a trainee agent could help us with as a consultant.

- "She has a unique perspective,"- Rossi tried to explain, but it sounded like bullshit.

- "They don't know?"- Seaver turned to the elderly agents, and they shook their heads.

- "Well, we weren't sure how you wanted to,"- David whispered.

- "Uh... Seaver's not my original last name. It's my mother's maiden name. Mine used to be Beauchamp. My father is Charles Beauchamp"- Ashley was supposed to explain the circumstances of her consultancy to the whole team, but she just looked at Spencer as she spoke.

- "As in the Redmond ripper, Charles Beauchamp?"- he asked her, and suddenly, it clicked. It was like my whole body was telling me I couldn't be close to her for a reason.

- "That's him,"- she whispered and kept her eyes on my best friend as he continued talking.

- "He killed 25 women over 10 years in rural North Dakota. I think that you caught him, right, Rossi?"- and David nodded.

- "Hotch was on that team, too."

- "Based on her life experience, we were hoping that agent Seaver might recognize something in the family dynamics inside the community that could be helpful. We have a plane waiting,"- Hotch announced and looked at us, but none of us said a word.

I kept my eyes glued at my feet the whole time Aaron talked. Then, Spencer nodded and walked with Seaver and Rossi out to the hangar. I couldn't even blink. I think I was in shock.

- "Her father was a serial killer?"- Prentiss asked Hotch, not getting what he was thinking.

- "That's definitely a different set of parameters,"- Morgan added. Neither of them was sold on the idea, which made me feel a little bit better.

- "I don't want her presence to get us sidetracked. It's a long shot that she's gonna see anything helpful. We work it like any other case,"- Hotch was clear, and Prentiss and Morgan nodded.

- "You got it."

But I disagreed with that.

- "(Y/N), is everything ok?"- Aaron asked me, and I tried my best to lie and be cool.

- "Yeah, I'm ok."

- "Ok. We work this like any other case. Wheels up in twenty."

But everything was far from being ok.

I sat next to Spencer on the jet, and we reviewed the case files together. Hotch briefed us, and we all pretended it wasn't weird having Seaver there. And I guess we had to pretend it wasn't odd knowing her dad was a serial killer.

- "You are very young, (Y/N),"- she said and smiled at me. She was sitting across from Spencer and me, and you could tell she had been trying to join the conversation for a few minutes now.

-" Twenty eight,"- I answered and looked at the files again.

- "And you, doctor?"

- "You can call me Reid. I'm twenty eight too,"- Spencer cut her a short, awkward, and nervous smile, and I turned to him.

- "Honey, did I leave my Mets jersey at your house?"- it was the only question that came to my mind at that minute. It was completely random, but somehow it showed a part of our dynamic that Ashley didn't know. Our friendship. Our closeness.

- "Yes, I found it last night,"- he answered and sipped his coffee- "I was gonna bring it over, but then I remembered you always borrow all my sweaters when you are home or when you stay over, so I thought maybe it was a good idea to keep it at my place."

- "I don't know, Batsy. It's my favorite sweatshirt- I raised an eyebrow, and I'm pretty sure I even flirted a little bit."

- "So? You need to keep one there."

- "But I like wearing your clothes when we are at your place. It's extra large and extra comfy."

- "Is that why you keep taking my sweaters back to your house?"- he asked and chuckled- "Last Sunday, I found four of my sweaters in your closet."

- "Sorry, I'm not even sorry,"- I said and laughed- "And what were you doing in my closet?"

- "Lucy, Ricky, can we focus on the case?"- Morgan asked and waved at us with one silly grin on his face- "We love hearing your adorable daily adventures, but we've got a psycho killer to catch."

Spencer blushed and flustered right away. I stuck out my tongue at Morgan and just shook my head. The way Seaver looked at Reid was still driving me nuts, but I felt I had shown her he was mine, childishly.

It's embarrassing to think that's not the most childish thing I did around her those days. Or in the weeks to follow. But I didn't like Ashley, and I didn't want her around my team. And it wasn't just her constant flirting with Spencer. It was the fact her father had killed my mother's sister when she was in college, and I was making my best effort to keep that fact aside from work. My personal life had to stay out of the FBI, especially when working a case.

I had to do some serious mental work trying to remember it wasn't Ashley's fault her father was a sick bastard. She hadn't hurt my family, and her father had ruined her life too. It wasn't her fault.

But one thing is knowing. Another thing is being rational about it. Spoiler: I wasn't so rational about it.

- "So, (Y/N). Do you like working at the BAU?"- Ashley asked me and looked at me through the rearview mirror. We were in the SUV, and Prentiss was driving. I was in the back seat, trying to ignore her, but she made it impossible.

- "Yes, very much,"- I answered and nodded, not taking my eyes from the window.

- "Everybody is very friendly,"- Seaver added and made a pause. I don't know if she wanted me to say something or if she was trying to find a way to say what she wanted to say.

- "Yes, they are,"- I humored her, and she quickly responded.

- "Are you and Spencer dating?"- I could feel the blood raising my cheeks as she spoke. And Prentiss flashed me a look through the mirror as Ashley continued talking.

- "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I just wondered because of the fraternization policy."

- "Right. Sure. Of course."

Those three words were meant to let Ashley know I wasn't buying her bullshit, So I literally spit them.

- "Spencer is my best friend. We are not dating."

Facing that simple truth had never been harder before, especially after how I saw Ashley's face light up.

- "You just seem to be so close."

- "Oh, they are close,"- Emily smiled at me and winked- "They are so close, they sometimes freak us out."

- "We freak you out?"- I raised an eyebrow and carefully hit her arm, pretending to be upset. But honestly, I was glad she was teasing me.

- "I am just saying, we are all pretty suspicious about you two. I am actually surprised you didn't share rooms tonight. They usually share rooms."- Emily explained to Seaver.

- "He was paired with Morgan,"- I pouted and looked at my phone. I thought maybe I could send him a funny text. I actually wanted to hang out with him.

- "He is very nice,"- Ashley added- "I mean, everybody is nice."

- "Yes, you mentioned it"

I was clearly not being nice. Seaver nodded and looked at the files again. I assumed she was trying to find a way to keep asking about Spencer, and I was making my best not to kill her.

- "Working with a genius must be somehow intimidating,"- she said after a few minutes. Damn it, she wasn't going to let that subject go.

- "It's fun working with Spencer,"- Prentiss said, trying to humor Seaver. And mostly, I guess trying to ease my mood and keep me from killing the trainee agent.

- "I'm sure it is,"- Seaver added. I hated her.

- "He is more than just a genius, he is a nerd."- Emily pointed out and chuckled at her words, making Seaver giggle too. I looked at my book again, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on it at all. He was my nerd. Mine.

- "Well, it's very refreshing to be with a group who trusts and works so well together,"- she added- "I had never felt less judged and more welcome in my entire life."

I know I should have felt sorry for her. But I honestly couldn't. That was the day I realized I wasn't the good person I thought I was. There was a part of me that was a scumbag. I'm guessing knowing that is pretty helpful and positive 'cos you can work on your flaws. But I wasn't planning on working on anything at that minute, though. I just wanted to break Seaver's face.

Spencer's point of view

I didn't like working without JJ. I've never been good with change, and that was a massive alteration of our routine. I missed her, and adding Ashley to the team made things even weirder for me, even for a case. I didn't want to be judgemental, but her father was a serial killer. Of course, that would make things weird.

Besides, everybody kept bugging me, teasing me, trying to see if I liked Seaver. Penelope called while we were on the case and started taunting me, saying she knew I thought Ashley was cute. I could see she was beautiful, but I couldn't see her that way. And I didn't want anyone to say those kinds of things around (Y/N).

Why did I care so much?

I didn't want to face it 'cos I knew it was completely platonic, but I didn't want (Y/N) to think I had a crush on Seaver. I knew my best friend didn't have romantic feelings for me, and I also knew I wasn't going to make a move on her or anything. But I didn't want things to change more than they already had. And most of all, I didn't want anything to alter my dynamic with (Y/N).

But at the same time, somehow, it felt everything was already different between us.

- "Hey, honey bunny,"- (Y/N) walked to me and handed me a cup of coffee- "I thought you might need one of these."

- "You are a lifesaver,"- I whispered and sipped the cup. It was perfect.

We were on the jet on our way back home. The whole team was mostly quiet. The mood was weird. Ashley had done something quite reckless earlier and nearly got herself killed. She walked to the unsub's house all alone, not knowing he was our guy. She almost died, and none of us can even imagine what went through her head to do such a thing.

Rossi and Hotch walked to her. (Y/N) looked at me, and I could read on her face that both of us knew what was going to happen.

Ashley was alone when David sat in front of her, and Hotch stood in the middle of the aisle. Maybe that had been insensitive of us. Neither of us tried to contain her. Neither of us really knew her that well. Or at all, as a matter of fact.

- "You were not supposed to go off on your own."- Hotch went straight to the point.

- "I know,"- she whispered, and I could see how (Y/N)'s face changed. I tried to read her, but all I was able to see was... anger? I had to be wronged. She had no reason to be mad at Ashley.

- "You could have been killed,"- Hotch crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her.

- "I know that, too."

- "Why, Ashley? You're smarter than that"- Rossi sounded like a worried father. I didn't look at him 'cos I kept my eyes on (Y/N)'s, still trying to read her emotions. But what I saw made no sense. She really looked like she was angry at Ashley. Like she hated her.

- "I never got to apologize to any of the victims. The families of the women my father killed. I thought if I could just apologize to one family that had been hurt that way..."

And that was when (Y/N) snapped. She jumped from her seat and walked to Seaver. Aaron and David looked at her surprised, and Morgan turned to me, taking off his headphones. Neither he nor Prentiss got what was happening until that moment.

- "Ok. Shoot!"- (Y/N) sat right in front of Seaver, next to David, and looked at her. But she didn't get it.

- "What? What are you talking about?"

- "You just said you wanted to apologize to one of the families. So go ahead. Try."

The silence on the jet was so deep and awkward it felt no one was ever going to talk again.

- "I'm sorry, (Y/N). But I don't get what you are implying,"- Ashley's voice was a whisper. I knew she was sad and affected, embarrassed even. But I also knew (Y/N), and I could read it on her face. She wasn't joking.

- "You said you wanted to apologize to the family of one of your dad's victims, so go ahead. Apologize to me."

My first instinct was to stand up, which I did. But I froze and didn't take a step closer to (Y/N) when I noticed the severe and cold look in her eyes. I didn't know what she was talking about. But I knew she wasn't bluffing.

- "Why should I... apologize to you?"- Ashley asked her, and her voice broke at a certain point, probably scared of the answer.

- "Your dad killed my mother's older sister. She was in college,"- (Y/N) spit each word with hate and looked at Ashley, waiting for her reply. But Seaver didn't know what to do. She widened her eyes and stayed still. She barely kept her breathing steady.

- "(Y/N), maybe we should let Seaver rest,"- Hotch landed a hand on her shoulder, but my friend shook her head.

- "No, Hotch. By making that choice, she put everyone at risk,"- (Y/N) didn't take her eyes from Ashley as she spoke- "As far as I remember when you are at the academy, they teach you that in the field, we are responsible to and for your team."

- "(Y/N)... I had no idea..."- Ashley tried to apologize, I could see it, but it was clear she wasn't going to win that argument- "I am so sorry."

- "I don't know, Seaver. Did you think saying "sorry" would make those families feel better? 'Cos it ain't working here. "Sorry" won't make my mom stop feeling guilty about what happened. And, if things had gotten ugly back there, "sorry" wouldn't have made your mistake go away in case anyone would have gotten hurt. So no. Sorry doesn't help. Maybe it can ease your conscience, but when you really fuck it up, it never makes things better."

(Y/N) stood up and walked back to her seat in front of me. I let her pass and didn't say a word. I knew she wouldn't want to talk about it there. And, of course, Seaver didn't say a word. She just stood up and walked to the back of the jet, to the bathroom. Rossi and Hotch looked at each other and then looked at me.

David poured a glass of whiskey and walked to (Y/N) slowly. He didn't say a word, he just handed it to her, and she just took it and sipped it with shaky hands.

- "Thanks,"- she whispered, and Rossi nodded. Hotch raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something, but he didn't. He just walked to his seat and opened a case file.

I moved back to my seat and opened my satchel. I had run out of candies earlier that day, so I didn't have much to give to her that could make her smile. So I picked a book and handed it to her. She took it and smiled at me kindly. I knew she was fighting back the tears, and I am sure she has held back all the emotions than being with the daughter of the man who killed her aunt since she knew who Seaver was. And she managed to do the job well. I was proud of her.

- "Wanna grab something to eat when we reach DC?"- I whispered, but for the first time ever, she shook her head.

- "I'm gonna have to catch a rain check for that dinner. I think I wanna go straight to my bed today, honey."- she sipped her glass again, and I nodded.

- "Don't worry, next time."

I was waiting for the train to go back home later that night when I saw Seaver sitting at a bench at the station, staring at her hands on her lap. I didn't see her leaving the BAU, though to be honest, I was really focused on finishing my paperwork to go home. (Y/N) had left as soon as we reached DC, but I had stayed a little longer.

I hesitated for a few seconds before I took a few steps closer and waved at Seaver. She looked at me surprised, as soon as she saw me, but didn't move. I smiled, trying to look friendly, and sat next to her.

- "Hi. What are you doing here?"- I asked her, and she shrugged.

- "I was going to go home, but I think I sat here half an hour ago and haven't been able to move,"- I turned to her and shook my head.

- "Do you want to eat something?"- after what had happened at the jet, I figured Ashley wasn't feeling so good, and maybe talking with someone could help her. She looked at me and blushed; I don't know why. But at least, she smiled and nodded.

- "Great, pizza?"

- "Pizza sounds good."

We were waiting for our food and making small talk. I kept giving Ashley pizza facts to fill the silence 'cos it was weird hanging out with Ashley. I didn't know her, really. We had worked a case together, but that didn't mean I knew her. And, of course, we had the whole jet incident. I felt a little guilty about what had happened, though it wasn't my fault at all in retrospect. I just felt like it was my job cheering her up a little bit after everything she had gone through.

- "How do you do it?"- she asked me all of a sudden- "How do you deal with the pressure of this job?"

- "You get used to it, I guess. I don't know if it's a good thing to get used to, but... it comes with the job, I think,"- I didn't know if I was doing ok comforting her. Then again, I have never been particularly good at it. Not then, not now.

- "Did you always dream about doing this?"- she asked me, and her eyes locked into mine in a way that made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

- "Y... yes. Ever since I was a kid, catching the bad guys,"- Seaver nodded and sipped her coke- "You? Why did you get into the academy?"

I regretted my question right after I asked, just 'cos I realized she might have done it to understand her father's behavior. It was only apparent that had shaped her actions.

- "I guess you know that..."- Ashley answered and smiled, her eyes looking straight into mine. I know I blushed. She is a beautiful woman, though I wasn't thinking about her that way. It was an odd feeling being observed that way.

I was glad our pizza made it to the table, and we were forced to stop talking, and I could focus on anything else but her. Not that I didn't want to look at her, but... I think the right way to explain it is to call it "uneasy." That's how I felt. I wanted to be friendly with her, she had a horrible experience consulting with the team, and I was sure she wasn't really having a good day.

- "This might sound weird, but... do you think I can call you sometime?"- Ashley asked after a few minutes. We were eating and talking about nothing important. I nearly chook at her words and looked at her, nodding.

- "Sure, why?"- I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't know why she might need to talk to me again.

- "I just think maybe you could help me with a few assignments at the academy."

- "Yeah, of course."

Ashley Seaver smiled and nodded at me, pleased. She took a sip of Sprite, and I could read her, trying to find the words to continue speaking.

- "I'm glad. I was sure you were going to say no."

- "Why?"- I furrowed my brows, confused- "I'm not a big fan of phones, but I can handle a casual phone call."

- "No, I just didn't think your girlfriend would like... I mean, I think (Y/N) hates me, and as her boyfriend, I thought you... would... I don't know."

- "I'm, we are... we,"- I was completely flustered as I tried to rearrange my thoughts. Seaver looked at me innocently and waited for my words.

- "(Y/N) isn't my girlfriend"- it bothered me to admit that simple fact. Why? 'Cos it hurt to think we looked like a couple, but we weren't. Why did Seaver think we were together?

- "Really? But..."

- "She is my best friend,"- I explained poorly. She nodded and hesitated before saying what she was thinking. It was obvious she was trying to arrange the words in her head.

- "It's just that you two... sorry, I'm overstepping,"- Ashley blushed and shook her head- "She is... strong."

- "Yes, very."

- "I think I started with the wrong foot with her."

- "Well, I don't mean to justify anything, but if your father hurt,"- I made a pause, trying to find a way to say it that wasn't so painful.

- "Killed. My father killed her aunt,"- she corrected me with a cold and monotonous tone of voice. I just nodded and sipped my water.

- "She is an amazing person,"- I don't know if I was trying to excuse (Y/N)'s earlier behavior or if I just loved her so much I needed to tell people how awesome she was.

- "I'm sure you will pass this,"- I assured her- "Once you get to know her, and she gets to know you."

- "I don't think she will give me that chance. Besides, I was just clear to assist with only one case."

- "If you want to stay, you can request your remedial training be here. And if Hotch approves it, I could talk to (Y/N). I'm sure she will like to know you better."

Why did I say all that? I had no idea.

- "Thank you, Spence. You are really sweet,"- Ashley moved closer and held my hand. I stayed very still, absolutely awkward.

- "Yeah, I don't... like... holding hands,"- I quickly moved it away and tried to smile at her. She stayed still, not understanding my reaction but trying to act normal.

- "Sorry."

- "That's ok. I'm a germaphobe, that's all."

After pizza, we left the place and said goodnight. I told Ashley I was weary (which was, in fact, the truth) and got her a cab to take her home. After that, I walked to my place. I felt like I needed to be alone for a while. My head was overwhelmed, and in the latest couple of weeks, I had severe trouble sleeping.

I had migraines that nearly blinded me. I was scared they meant I could develop the first signs of schizophrenia, like mom, 'cos they were coming more and more often. It wasn't that bad yet, the light didn't hurt my eyes, and I didn't have any sign of hallucination, but still, I knew it could be serious.

I tried to think of a reason why I might be having those severe headaches. I was eating correctly, mostly 'cos (Y/N) forced me to eat. No, she didn't force me, but she made sure I had all my meals at work, not just coffee. And usually, at the weekends, we would spend our time together, and she was a fantastic cook. So it wasn't an alimentary issue.

I wasn't sleeping well. That wasn't new, but it was getting serious. I wrote and read a lot at night 'cos I couldn't fall asleep until late. I didn't know why. I just couldn't rest. My body ached, and my brain wouldn't sleep. The only nights I could actually get some rest were the ones when (Y/N) stayed with me. It was a blessing when Hotch paired us to share rooms, 'cos I could easily fall asleep when she was around. Her presence soothed me in a way that I didn't understand. Let me put it this way, I know it might sound cheesy, but the beating of her heart set the rhythm for my own, and at night it would bring me peace.

I reached home that night and sighed. I knew I wasn't going to rest easy. (Y/N) wasn't there with me. So I made myself a cup of herbal tea, (Y/N) had a lot of those in my house, and I drank them when I missed her. The smell coming from the cup made me feel like she was close.

How pathetic I had become! But I could only share those thoughts with myself. No one knew I had feelings for her, and I was going to deny it till the end, no matter what had JJ said. I couldn't take that phone call from my mind, and on those sleepless nights, I kept overthinking and overanalyzing everything.

I got into bed with a few books and my cup of herbal tea. I took a look at my cell phone, two new messages.

- "I miss u"

(Y/N) sent, and a warm feeling spread on my chest as I imagined her whispering those words as I read them

- "Breakfast tomorrow before work?"

- "See you at seven-thirty."

I typed and sent it.

What could ever happen if I told her how much in love I am with her? I would lose her, and I'd be alone. She didn't feel that way for me. It was a fact. I was just glad she was my best friend, and I could share everything with her. Was I pathetic? Yes, very, but in a way, it felt it was just all I deserved. Not more, not less. Just being in love with a girl who didn't love me back.

At least she wasn't dating Paul anymore. I hated that guy.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Spencer was waiting for me outside our usual coffee shop, already holding two cups of coffee. His short hair looked dreamy as she smiled and took off his sunglasses. It had to be illegal being that hot. But, seriously, how didn't he get laid? He was fucking dreamy. In the four years we had been best friends, I saw Spencer in many hairstyles, and each of them made him look like a model.

Falling in love with Spencer Reid had been a process I hadn't actually been fully aware of. But I was completely conscious I needed to hide those feelings from him and from everybody at the BAU.

Ok, fine, I had somehow faced part of those feelings in front of my drunk best buddies at Penelope's house, but I never actually confirmed anything. I had just... shared some of my frustrations, I guess.

- "Good morning, honey bunny,"- I smiled and sighed as I stood in front of Spencer, watching him grin back at me and hand me one of the coffee cups.

- "Good morning, chipmunk. Did you get some rest?"

- "Yes, I fell asleep as soon as I reached my bed. I was exhausted."

- "I'm glad you are fully rested."

- "What did you do yesterday?"

- "Nothing,"- he answered quickly and turned around- "I got you a carrot muffin to go."

- "Thank you so much. I'm starving. I didn't even have dinner yesterday."

- "Really?"

- "I told you, I reached home and crawled into my bed."

We walked outside the coffee shop in silence. Spencer bit his donuts, and I ate my muffin. It was nice and calming being with him doing domestic things in life.

I hated how much in love I was with him 'cos I knew I had to shake that feeling away. He was never going to have feelings for me. I was a regular human being, and Spencer Walter Reid was a genius. He deserved better, he was actually never to think about me that way, and I refused to ruin our friendship with those feelings.

- "So, Comic-con is coming. What are we doing this year?"- I asked as I drove us to Quantico.

- "I was thinking we should do something classic,"- he looked at me, nearly beaming on his seat- "We haven't done Star Wars yet."

- "Really?"- I frowned, confused- "All these years? Are you sure?"

- "(Y/N), eidetic memory,"- he argued, and I chuckled- "So, how do you feel about Leia?"

- "Do I have to be Leia 'cos I'm a girl?"- I asked him, and he flustered right away.

- "What? No, you can be whoever you want to be. I was just, it came to my mind... I didn't,"- I giggled and looked at him for a second.

- "I'm messing with you, Batsy. I always wanted to dress as Leia. Surprisingly, I never had. Padme once, it was a mess, but never Leia. Who are you planning to be?"

- "Maybe Luke... or Obi-Wan. Morgan suggested C3PO once."

- "If I'm Leia, you should be Han,"- I don't know why I said that out loud. I thought about it, I pictured it in my head, but I knew I shouldn't have said it. Then why did those words leave my mouth? I don't know.

- "Han Solo... yes... yeah, sure. Of course! We can pick our outfits this weekend."

- "Great! What do you think would look better? Slave Leia or classic all in white Leia?"- Spencer didn't answer. He just sipped his coffee and looked outside the window.

- "You would look good in both,"- his cellphone interrupted our conversations, and I thought it might be a case. But I was so wrong, it hurt.

- "Hello? Oh, hi, Ashley,"- I nearly hit the break as soon as I heard him saying her name, but instead, I turned around and looked at him.

- "Good, yes. On my way to work with (Y/N). Oh, that's good."

I didn't care what she was saying. I just needed to know why that bitch was calling him. I was blind in jealousy, and I was having a hard time hiding it.

- "Really? Emily? That's... that's great. Sure, we'll see you around, gotta go. Bye."

- "What the fuck?"- I swear, I didn't think what I was saying. Those words just slip through my lips straight from my guts. I hated Seaver.

- "That was Ashley."

- "Figured when you said "Hi Ashley." What? Are you best friends with her now?"

- "What? No! No way! She just wanted to say hi... and... She.... asked for my number 'cos she wanted to help her with some of the academy's projects,"- Spencer was so nervous he actually stuttered as he answered my simple question.

- "Of course, she did,"- my voice was bitter and hurt, but most of all, ironic. And I don't know if Spencer didn't want to understand me or actually didn't get the hint, but he just continued talking.

- "She wanted to tell me she requested her remedial training be at the BAU."

- "What?!"- that wasn't subtle. I actually yelled- "I'm gonna have to see her again?"

- "If Hotch approves..."

- "Fuck!! That's awful!!"- I hit the wheel, frustrated.

- "She's not a bad person, (Y/N). Her dad was a murderer, but that doesn't mean..."- I turned to look at Spencer for a second, and he just shut up- "Sorry."

- "I don't like her, Spencer."

- "Yes, I know."

- "Her dad killed my aunt!!"

- "I know..."

- "And on top of that, that bitch is..."

I had to bite my lips and focus on the road, actually holding my breath for a few seconds, just not to open my mouth and ruin it all.

The main reason why I hated Ashley Seaver wasn't just because of what her father had done. That itself was enough to keep her away. But on top of that, she was flirting with Spencer. She wasn't even subtle about it; she was nearly all over him. I saw her! She wanted him, and he had no idea! He was blind to her attention. Unless he liked it. Did he? Shit, I hoped not.

- "She what?"- Spencer whispered, scared of my reaction.

- "She plays the pity card the whole time. Bad things happen to all of us. You don't have to make it who you are, she does, and she expects sympathy."

I grabbed my muffin and took a big bite of it. Spencer sighed and stayed quiet for a moment, giving me space to decompress, I think.

- "Did you know the origins of carrot cake are disputed by many countries?"- I looked at Spencer, and he nodded- "Many food historians believe carrot cake originated from the English recipe of carrot puddings, eaten by Europeans in the Middle Ages when sugar and sweeteners were expensive, and many people used carrots as a substitute for sugar."

- "My mom would fight all those historians and convince them she invented it. Her carrot cake is the best."

- "And I would agree, the cake she baked for your last birthday was amazing."- I nodded and heard him chuckle as I kept my eyes on the road. I wanted to focus on the memories of my last birthday and how fun it was, but something was bugging me.

- "And why did she call you to tell you what she wanted to do?"- I parked the car outside the BAU and turned to Spencer. He opened his mouth, but no word came from it. So I asked him again.

- "Honey, why did Seaver call you to announce she would take the remedial training at the BAU?"

- "It... might... had been my idea,"- he whispered and held his satchel tight against his body. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't believe it.

- "Why on earth did you do that, Spencer?!"- I shouted as I got out of the car, grabbed my purse, my clean go bag in case we had a case, and started walking towards the building.

- "It wasn't like a suggestion. She just..."

- "I can't believe it!!"

- "It doesn't have to be that bad! It's just for a few weeks..."

- "Hopefully, Hotch won't accept."

- "(Y/N), come on,"- Spencer held my hand and stopped me- "This is not like you. Yeah, you don't like her, but you are making it a big deal, and it's not."

- "I'm starting to think you are crushed on her,"- I didn't want to say those words. They just slipped.

- "What!? Why? No!! I'm not!"- the high pitch on Spencer's voice was a clear sign of how uncomfortable he was with the conversation.

- "Then why are you defending her?"

- "I am not! I'm just saying maybe you are acting a little bit... irrational about this whole thing. She hasn't done anything bad."

- "Other than jeopardizing the whole case yesterday?"

- "Right, other than that..."

I felt Spencer's hand in mine, and I swear, I couldn't stop thinking about how it felt. It kept sending shivers all over my body. His thumb rubbed small circles on my skin, probably trying to calm me down, and it worked. I followed it with my eyes for a second as I took a few deep breaths and nodded.

- "Ok, I won't make a big deal if she stays."

- "Thank you."

- "Just... don't ask me to be her friend."

- "You don't have to be her friend."

Spencer stood in front of me and smiled. I swear all I could think of was kissing him. And a part of me felt it was getting harder and harder to resist. He put on his sunglasses and kept his hand in mine for a moment until Penelope's voice took us from our little bubble.

- "Good morning, my wonder babies!! Ready to fight crime?"

I actually didn't know what I was getting into.

Hotch had taken the day off. We were around the one-year anniversary of Haley's death, and according to what Rossi explained to us, Jack wasn't feeling so good. It was said it would be just a day or two, but I had the feeling it might be a couple of weeks. Hotch would always put himself second, but he would do whatever it took to keep him safe when it came to his son.

Morgan had been asked to take a trip to Petersburg Federal Correctional Complex to do a risk assessment on a case, so Spencer, Prentiss, and I were in the bullpen. Garcia was in her office, and Rossi was in a meeting with Strauss. I'd say it was a very calm morning, catching up with all the pending paperwork we had. Spencer had just gotten me a cup of coffee when I heard Seaver's cheerful voice.

- "Hi guys!"- she walked in with a big smile and waved- "How are you?"

Spencer looked at me as we all said our hellos. I could almost read "Please, be nice" written all over his face, and for a moment, I was willing to do as told. I didn't want him to suspect why I was so annoyed by her after all.

- "I talked to Hotch"- Emily smiled at Seaver and moved a chair for her- He signed off your remedial training, and I'll be your training agent. I'll supervise your work. I already told Rossi too, so it's official.

Ashley jumped from her chair and hugged Emily. I rolled my eyes and stared at the file on my desk. I really wasn't ready to deal with her. I wasn't prepared to deal with someone trying to steal Spencer from me.

Ok, Spencer wasn't mine to keep, but we had been inseparable for four years, and I didn't want to lose that. I didn't want to lose him.

I had never been ready to deal with Spencer dating other girls. The few times girls had hit on him had been awful. Once, Morgan took him to a club when we were on a case, 'cos the unsub was picking his victims there, and he taught him how to pick up girls. The bartender ended up giving him her number 'cos my dorky best friend was charming. Derek still remembered that moment from time to time, quoting it as "The day he turned Spencer into a man."

I loved Derek, but fuck, I hated him sometimes.

- "Welcome to the team,"- Spencer waved at Seaver from his desk and turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

- "Yeah, welcome,"- I added and cut her a short smile.

- "I'm thrilled to join you guys for a few weeks. I always dreamt of being here. I'm ready for making it up after the last case."

- "Don't be so hard on yourself,"- Prentiss interrupted her and smiled friendly- "You remained calm under pressure, and the case was solved. That's all that matters."

I had to control myself not to snort after Emily's words. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on my desk like I had done before. I was so focused on it that I could have actually developed telekinesis skills and moved the freaking file with my eyes.

- "I just wanted to say thank you to all of you,"- Seaver's voice was soft, in a mix of fear, excitement, and... something else I couldn't read.

- "Especially you, Spencer. I really enjoyed our talk last night, and I have the feeling I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. Thank you for the pizza. I owe you dinner."

- "Don't, it was nothing,"- Spencer flustered and stood up quickly, grabbing his pile of files and walking away, arguing he needed to ask Garcia something.

I did my best not to move a muscle. I didn't want Seaver to know how much I hated the fact she had shared what seemed to be a lovely evening with Spencer. One he didn't actually mention when we talked about what we had done the previous evening. Why did he decide to keep me in the dark? I couldn't understand that. Maybe he just didn't want me to know he actually had feelings for Seaver. Maybe he had asked her out, and because he knew I hated her (though he really didn't know why), he decided not to tell me what was going on.

I had been wasting all that time in love with Spencer. I knew I would never act on those feelings, and clearly, he didn't have feelings for me. So... maybe it was time to let him go.

How could I let Spencer Reid go when I never actually had him?

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Next update: June 16th, 2021