#Milestone celebration

[uhhlifeig]

300 Followers Event!!

guys this is insane 😭 ive been on tumblr for like six months??

anygays!! i have a new thingy to celebrate my like... milestone or whatever

so. as yall know (maybe?) i write microfics. (i also sometimes write full fics but shh we dont talk abt my google drive folders-)

but as i was saying, i write microfics. and i also dont have nearly enough fics on ao3. so why not make an event where people send in a word or a prompt or a ship or whatever and make that a collection of work??

great idea, right?

right????

anygays, here we go again!!

EM'S EMPORIUM (v2)

ignoring how i reused the name from last time-

you guys can give me prompts and characters and ships and stuff via asks, and you'll probably get something back. but those are just the instructions :)

(lasts from 2/26 to 5/01 before i post the collection)

(this is also specifically targeted towards the marauders fandom ppl)

FOR FOLLOWERS:

✨ - i come up with fic prompts, ships and stuff included

🥳 - ...and they all lived happily ever after!! (no voldemort)

🥺 - whump

🫶 - getting together

🎵 - song inspired (need name of song)

🫠 - give me a ship and ill kill one of the people and make the other suffer

FOR MOOTS:

💀 - i kill off a character in the most heart-wrenching way i can think of (character needed)

🤑 - any au (just tell me which one)

🥹 - angst with a happy ending

🔪 - horror/thriller/murder is involved somehow??

😍 - soulmate au

🗣️ - you give me a prompt. any prompt. and i will write it into a microfic. (i dont do smut tho im a minor :D)

also moots can do the followers stuff too lmao in case that wasnt already implied 😭

a few tags under the cut:

@antarescamusxo @outromoony @eloose @whydousernamesevenexist @matty-os-blog @thebibutterflyao3@rainystarssx @d3l-official @boba-pearl @n1c0tin3 @m0ssywill0w @wylanlupin

@bralnwashed @madame-marauder @iliveonblandfanfics @sweetest-thing-in-hell @reptilian-rapscallian @criimsonreg @tastelessleather @my-castles-crumbling @therewasnofloorbtw @wyndigos-blog @starkayezer @moonandstarshangoutinbars @amy-harper @reguluskeys @noblehouseofgay @aesthetic-writer18 

@dutifullynervouscreation @equippedtolove @allonsy-moony @thequeen0fhearts @lienspien @abs0l3m @dandelionflowery @ethan-torchios-bitch @julia-lokidottier @estellethewriter @arch-angeless @discoveredreality @anything-for-my-moony-1971 

@tea-blankets-andstars @finntheworm81 @hmyrine @charlie-kelly-variant @wolfstar-love-child @blakelakely @ashstillalive @smuttylyra @almostdecaffeinatedfun @love-hate-love00 @will-you-be-a-satanist-with-me 

@taleofapart-timepoet @ttroubledwaters @aletharaej @lambthebeloathed @lady-stardust-sang @forensic-b1tch-aiden @star-and-moon-shipper @adhara2034 @lover-of-astraeus @corey-writes-stuff @sxmnc @wishiwereheather13 @regulus-cannot-swim @yourlocalbadgerscales @hotteststar @moutainrusing

[eobe]

Time for another Captain KEELI, because I don’t know when and where and how it comes, but…

300 Follower Celebration! 🤩✨

I want to say thank you all gorgeous folks🙏 To the new ones, warm welcome, have a caf and talk if you want and enjoy 🫶😍

To my lovely and supportive longer termed companions, moots and friends: I would never be here with my art and skills without you all joining my journey and (I cry good tears!) staying! 😭🙏♥️ I‘m sending big Wrecker hugs to yoouuuu ♥️♥️♥️

Your reactions from likes over comments to reblogs – I appreciate all of them so much, encouraging me to continue and improve! 🤩✨

I‘ve got so much fun here that I‘m stuck in way too much WIP, my head exploding with ideas, my notes bursting with projects and plots, the days too few hours to get it all done in the time I wanted to! 🤯🥰

I just can’t believe that it all started at 3rd September 2024 (Sorry, I have to repeat this ramble until I get it myself!) that I thought, that the shave pattern of gorgeous and unterrated Captain Keeli has too few fanart, so let‘s try to derust my drawing skill and put it on Tumblr, maybe somebody likes it 🤷🏽‍♀️

„SOMEBODY“ got into you all now 😘

So the most stylish Captain of the GAR got into my personal art restart journey support clone and you have to deal with him minimum with every milestone 🤷🏽‍♀️🤩

Have a closer look for the shoulder glance (I have a thing with shoulder glance 🙈):

My husband said he looks like Marvel‘s The Falcon 😂 Now I want to draw Keeli a Falcon kit to get him and General Di out of their last stand 😱🤯🫠

Thank you so much also to you, my dearest taglist, enjoy a Captain Keeli: @eclec-tech @lonewolflupe @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @justanotherdikutsimp @ladylucksrogue @spaceyjessa @morerandombullshit

[monstersholygrail]

Thought it was absolutely crazy how close the polls were in the last installment of the choose your own adventure monster fic. I have never seen a poll be so close before

I saw people in the comments celebrating for Minotaur Boss and mourning Demon Guard. I totally get it haha

RIP Demon Guard. You would have been glorious 🙏🏼

But Minotaur Boss is going to be hot as hell too. We’re moving on up in this adventure and things are hopefully going to continue getting more intense and wild. I have some great things planned for you guys and possibly some surprises. Reader is really gonna get it in Part 3

I’m excited and I hope you are too!

[baksuz-art]

✨ 500 followers celebration game ✨

to celebrate a new milestone, i want to have fun and spread some love 😺🎉 i will keep it short and sweet! the event will last until tomorrow 21H/9PM (UTC) ! 🕘 participation: 1. follow me 2. like this post 3. reblog this post and add: either a piece of your visual art OR a photo of your pet 4. make a separate post with the same piece of visual art or a photo of your pet (or dm me the link to an existing post) any and all art skill levels are more than welcome to participate! 😸 additional rules: 1. no ai 2. no nsfw 3. keep it positive prize: after the event ends, i will sift through the post notes and pick two winners whose posts i will 🔥blaze🔥 - one art post and one pet post! additionally, i will keep sharing all submissions on my other blog, trans-meowsculine! if you want to participate, please remember to enable blaze on your posts in your blog settings! 😽🖤

[zaldritzosrose]

Like Real People Do (Jacaerys x Noble!Reader)

We are back with a milestone request from my darling @legitalicat, and I also gifting this to her as a birthday treat! See the request ask here!

Song - Like Real People Do by Hozier

Summary: You were like a beacon of comfort and normality for Jacaerys. His title didn't seem to weigh as heavy when he was with you. You made him feel 'normal', whatever that word meant. You made him feel like he was not a prince, not heir to the throne, but a real person.

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, noble reader, no specific descriptions of reader, all fluff, this is sickeningly sweet and we may need a dentist after, Jacaerys being a gentleman.

Words: 3121

I had a thought, dear, however scary, about that night, the bugs and the dirt…

You hadn’t noticed it immediately. But Jacaerys had begun to spend a lot of time simply watching you. Even doing the most mundane of things.

The daughter of a noble house sworn to his mother, you now spent a lot of time on Dragonstone. Following your father as he swore his sword to Rhaenyra’s cause. You would accompany your father whenever he would venture to the island.

At first, you had stuck to his side as much as possible. Rhaenyra being made heir had prompted your father to begin to school you in more of a political light as the eldest daughter, so travelling to Dragonstone to watch your new Queen had become a source of fascination for you.

And the more time you spent on Dragonstone, the more time you began to spend in the prince’s company. Jacaerys was usually at his mother’s side, so for the most part the encounters were more formal.

But soon your father’s visits became more frequent which meant you made more effort to find more comfort and familiarity with the island.

Spending time on the beaches over in the castle. Simply walking and taking in the scenery around you.

This is what Jacaerys noticed first. And it fascinated him to no end.

Why were you digging? What did you bury, before those hands pulled me from the earth?

As the war for the throne began to pick up traction, your father was occupied more and more. And he encouraged you to spend just a little more time exploring the island.

Today was one of those trips, wandering through the rocky hills as the sea air whipped at your hair.

But you weren’t alone this time. Too lost in the fresh, salty air, you didn’t notice the figure following a few paces behind you.

You descended to the beach, taking your shawl and setting it down to protect your gown from the sand. You absentmindedly drew patterns in the sand, letting the sound of the wind and waves wash over you.

But as the weather calmed, you heard another set of feet crunching in the sand. You moved to stand, immediately on edge.

Before you could say a word, Jacaerys spoke.

“Apologies, my lady, if I startled you?” he said gently, and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

You took a breath, brushing down your skirt before smiling.

“Oh, not to worry, my prince,” you tried smooth down your hair as you spoke, immediately regretting not braiding it for your walk.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment. This was the first time you had been truly alone with Jacaerys. Every other encounter had been somewhere within the walls of the castle, surrounded by any number of other people.

“I, uh, I apologise for my appearance, I was not expecting to be accompanied…” you mumbled, simply wanting to fill the silence somehow.

Jacaerys only chuckled. Maybe he should have made his presence known sooner? But he had found the way you took in your surroundings so interesting to simply observe. How relaxed you seemed, as if you’d shed the mask of your noble title. Something he wished he could do himself.

“Nothing to apologise for, I am the one that disturbed your solitude.”

You were surprised by how relaxed you felt, now that the initial surprise had dissipated. Maybe it was being out of the castle, out in the fresh air with no expectations for how you acted.

“You are welcome to join me, my prince?” you asked, silently hoping he would agree.

The prince smiled, there were no duties calling him back to the castle, though he likely should have been doing something. Maybe a bit of respite from the castle walls was what he needed?

“I would love that, my lady.”

You leaned down, spreading your shawl out as wide as you could so there was space enough for both of you. You settled yourself back down, returning your gaze to the sea before you. Jacaerys removed his cloak, doing as you had with your shawl. A little sand wasn’t going to do any harm.

As he sat, he took the chance to look at you, as he did whenever you entered a room. He took in just how lovely the sun was as it shone through your hair, how it began to illuminate your profile like a halo.

But what he enjoyed most, was how normal it felt to just sit beside you. He didn’t feel like a prince in this very moment, and it was thanks to you.

Of course, it helped that he truly did find you beautiful.

I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask and neither should you…

How many hours passed, neither of you knew. But the weather soon took a turn, the sea air growing cold and the wind now more than a tolerable breeze.

Jacaerys noticed the way you tried to hide your shivers and took it upon himself to suggest you both return indoors.

“Shall we return? Dragonstone’s beaches can get quite cold in the evenings.” Jacaerys said softly, standing up and holding a hand for you to take.

And you took it gladly, letting him pull you to standing. Before you could even bend down to grab your own shawl, Jacaerys lifted his cloak to drape over your shoulders.

You kept your head down, trying desperately to hide the blush you knew had begun to bloom on your cheeks.

“Thank you, my prince. We should be quick then, so you do not freeze?” you teased, pulling his heavy cloak a little higher up on your shoulders.

Jacaerys nodded, grabbing your shawl from the ground and holding out his arm for you to take, his own cheeks growing pink as you took it.

“Please, would you call me Jacaerys?”

He didn’t miss the surprise on your face. You may have spent a lot of time in his presence, but using his name still felt extremely intimate. But the almost pleading look in his eyes was hard to ignore.

“I can try, I think. Though it will take some getting used to, so forgive me if I forget to,” you answered, hoping that was enough for now.

It earned you a soft smile, his appreciation clear.

He knew your upbringing would have been as ingrained in your psyche as his own. Calling a royal by their name would likely seem incomprehensible. Just as if he were to use your name, it would have felt quiet unusual.

But names were personal, intimate. Names had no status, no titles. And you made him forget his title with just your presence.

You both began to walk, your arm safely nestled through the crook of his elbow. You were halfway back to the castle when a thought crossed your mind.

“And mayhaps you should call me by my name then? Instead of my lady?” you asked, feeling a little disappointed as you saw the castle come into view in the distance.

Jacaerys smiled. He had heard your name whenever you were announced, a name as beautiful as the woman who owned it. It was only fair for him to use yours if he’d asked you to use his.

“That sounds fair. It can be something we allow for moments much like we shared today?”

He let his question linger. Silently asking for there to be more days like today, without having to embarrass himself asking.

“Our little secret…Jacaerys.”

Jacaerys felt his chest tighten at the sound of his name on your lips. The way you said it so gently as though you were still unsure about using it.

The rest of the walk to the castle continued in silence, but Jacaerys couldn’t take his eyes off you for most of it. There was something about you that kept drawing him in, something that made him desperate to keep you at his side.

You gave him a sense of normality, yes. But there was something else. Something that made his heart beat a little faster whenever you entered a room.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do…

In the days that followed, Jacaerys’ mind kept returning to you. To sitting beside you on the beach, to the sound of his name on your lips, to the feel of your hand on his arm.

He tried to ignore the fluttered feeling in his stomach whenever he thought of you, but it was more than a challenge. His cloak still held the faintest scent of your perfume, which he had begun accustomed to being able to smell whenever he wore it.

You had returned home with your father the night before, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before you were back. The trips your father made were frequent, which he was now eternally grateful for.

He had stood at the castle walls as your ship left, still remembering the kiss to his cheek that you had snuck in when your respective parents were otherwise engaged.

A kiss that was still in his mind now as he tried to read the pile of parchments in front of him. Not a single word he read seemed to hold in his mind.

Every thought he had would somehow return to you.

I knew that look, dear, eyes always seeking, was there in someone that dug long ago…

You waited in anticipation for your father to tell you when his next trip to Dragonstone would be. There was no use in hiding it, you wanted to see Jacaerys again.

There was a sense of safety with him, you weren’t afraid to relax around. As he was with you. Whether it was only friendship, or something soon to be more, you didn’t know. But the mere thought of him gave you butterflies every time.

Each time you would see your father handed a letter, you hoped it would be a summons to Dragonstone again. But a couple of weeks went by and there was nothing.

You would go to sleep each night, silently wishing that the next morning would bring a letter.

Until one morning, your wishes were answered. Your father came down to breakfast, parchment in hand and looked immediately to you.

“Ready for another journey to our Queen, sweet daughter?” he asked, already chuckling at the fervent nod you gave him.

What you did not know, was that your father was more than aware of your affection for the prince, and he was more than supportive of it. To be in the prince’s good graces, was to be in the Queen’s and your father had long cemented himself as a pillar of loyalty for Rhaenyra.

The journey was planned for that evening, so you had no hesitation in hurriedly finishing your breakfast and leaving to pack your things. All your father’s journeys to Dragonstone were a week or two at best, so preparation was key.

So I will not ask you why you were creeping, in some sad way, I already know…

The ship arrived late into the night, the servants helping you, your father and the other members of your household collect your belongings and move them inside.

The castle was quiet, late enough that you were sure most of the royal family was already asleep. The sailings were not all that long, but there was little about them that you enjoyed. Yet, despite how tired you felt, you rarely found rest after one of those journeys.

You were all shown to your rooms, but you made no move to settle down. Even when exhaustion began to settle in your bones, you were a restless soul.

And Dragonstone at night? Well, that was something you had yet to experience to its fullest advantage.

The large castle seemed even grander in the darkness. The only light were the sconces on the walls and the chamberstick in your hand. You wandered the halls, paying mind to the rooms you knew were off limits no matter the time of day.

Your aimless wandering brought you to the library. Aside from the beach, it was one of your favourite places to visit. The tall bookcases that seemed to go on endlessly, the smell of old books. There was something so comforting about it all, despite it being far grander than the library in your own home.

But just like the beach all those weeks ago, you were not alone.

You couldn’t see him, tucked into a corner and hidden by the crammed bookcases. But Jacaerys had been in the library for most of the evening. The longer the war between his mother and uncle dragged on, the heavier the title of heir to the Iron Throne had begun to weigh on him.

And Jacaerys had never been more conscious of what others thought of him.

It was only when you heard the soft scrape of a chair did you realise you weren’t the only one hidden in the rows of dusty tomes.

“Is someone there?” you called, clutching your shawl around your shoulders.

When no one answered, you began to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. Until you heard some very familiar footsteps.

“It is just me,” Jacaerys responded, appearing from his corner with a soft smile.

You breathed a sigh of relief, walking closer to him.

“Jacaerys, I thought my mind was playing me for a fool, hearing things!” you laughed, setting the chamberstick down on the table beside him.

You took the chance to look him over. Maybe it was the candlelight, but he looked far more tired than usual.

“Are you well?” you asked, trying to keep your concern polite still.

Jacaerys sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging. Your presence was a comfort, a safe space where he could let his mask slip.

He sat down in a nearby chair. He was no longer a prince; he was simply a young man with the weight of seven kingdoms on his shoulders. As if by instinct, you moved closer to him.

Aside from the goodbye kiss to his cheek and the occasional soft touch of your hands, there hadn’t been much physical contact between you.

But you could immediately sense that he simply needed…something.

So I will not ask you where you came from, I would not ask and neither would you…

Your hand went to his shoulder first, standing between the chair in which he sat and the table. The touch was gentle, giving him the chance to pull away if he wished.

But Jacaerys didn’t want to. With you, he wasn’t a Targaryen prince, he wasn’t his mother’s heir.

He was just Jacaerys.

His hand raised to hold on to yours. Lacing his fingers and simply holding on to you.

How could he tell you how he was feeling? Would you think less of him? Would you think him weak?

But you were perceptive, and you could see the maelstrom of emotions behind his eyes.

“Jace…you can talk to me, you know that?” you asked softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

You only called him Jace when emotions were high. The last time had been when you had both said goodbye.

He sighed again. Why wouldn’t the words just come out?

“I…sometimes I wish I wasn’t the heir,”

Jacaerys hurried through the words, his voice barely a whisper but enough to hear.

Your face softened, though concern lingered in your gaze.

“And why is that?”

Your head tilted down to look at him as you spoke. Your hand moving from his shoulder to his cheek. The reasons weren’t something you were unaware of, but you knew he needed to talk it through.

“There are times I wish I could simply…be. To be able to live without the shadow of the throne at my back…”

His eyes closed as he leaned into your palm. With you, he felt like that could be possible. Since that day on the beach, you had respected his wish to not be seen as a prince. For his title to mean nothing whenever you were alone.

To let him be just a real person.

His eyes met yours and a soft smile tugged at his lips.

“I feel like that with you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, butterflies tingling in your stomach. Gentle waves of affection washing over you.

You made him feel safe. You made him feel comfortable. You made him happy.

“Jace…”

No more words left your lips as he pulled you closer. Wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his under your chin. You hesitated for only a moment before you returned his embrace. Resting your cheek on the crown of his head.

“You make me feel real,” he whispered, his voice muffled against your neck.

You were sure he could have felt the rapid thump of your heartbeat now. But his was beating just the same.

The words hung heavy between you. The feelings between you both had been unspoken since the beach. Though it was only a few weeks, the tension had only grown more with separation.

You didn’t know what to say, but you realised you didn’t need to say anything. Your lips pressed to his curls, tightening your arms around his shoulders.

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss like real people do…

The warmth of your lips on his skin was like a wave of calm. A balm to his tortured mind. Your mere presence seemed to hold the ability to fix his problems.

One of the hands on your waist moved to hold your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm.

But when his eyes met yours this time, there was only one thing he wished to do.

The kiss was gentle, tentative. But every ounce of love and affection that he held for you into it. The arm around your waist pulling you ever tighter into his hold.

And when the kiss broke, your leaned down to rest your forehead against his. Everything felt different, in the best way.

He was yours and you were his. For just a moment, Jacaerys could pretend he was just a normal person. He was happy and loved for who he was.

And you silently vowed to make it so he would feel that way forever.

I could not ask you where you came from. I could not ask and neither could you…

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We could just kiss like real people do.

Jace Taglist:

@legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @sylasthegrim

@blissfulphilospher @elaratyrell @multyfangirl

(if you want to be added/deleted, let me know)

[targaryen-dynasty]

𝟑𝐤 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

this is the masterlist for my milestone celebration. i have brought in several talented authors to help me with this. each piece that's listed here has been written based on one request i've during my time here in the asoiaf fandom. and if you ask me: i am glad i did so, because couldn't have written these any better. thank you so much to everyone who's joined me on this wild ride!

𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

Rȳbās by @zaldritzosrose

In the Night by @anjelicawrites

Unabashed by @targaryenrealnessdarling

Tear Down My Reason by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

When He Breaks by @thought--bubble

Oathkeeper by @aemondsbabe

The Warm of Both Bodies by @venmondiese

𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

The Warm of Both Bodies by @venmondiese

𝐝𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

Shared Future by @happilyhertale

Perfect Size by @the-dendrophile-bookdragon

[mister-ttt]

One year ago today, I met my dear friend and wonderful collaboration partner @happydayz101 for the first time! We had dinner together at a restaurant that she suggested and got to know each other a little. No tickles were involved in our first meetup. We were both kind of nervous, and I wasn't even sure if I was going to hear from her again. But here we are, one year later, and at this point, I've made more content with her than I have with anyone else.

Thanks, Happy, for being a great collaboration partner and an even better friend! ❤️

[dailyimpulsedoodles]

Oh hey impulse!

What are you doing tod- oh, whats that shadow?

… oh

[100] 100 days 100 doodles! First one of hopefully many milestones ^^ thank you guys for supporting this account and these silly doodles

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

「 let's bake something yummy to celebrate 10k 」

i can not believe i've hit this number... it's only two years ago that i began writing and sharing it online, so to think over that there is that may of you out there is truly unbelievable. in my head there is just enough to fit on my little couch here at home, but i don't think my couch is big enough for that many. thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart for staying here with me, for reading my silly little stories and for always being so kind. i love you all.

this celebration will run from now till the 31 of march. anyone can participate and you can send in as many asks as you’d like, there is no limit.

if you need some prompts as Inspo for the request options, then try and click around on my sideblog @prompt-heaven where I keep a bunch of prompt lists very organised. 

navigation | masterlist | request guidelines

cookie - games! (cast your mutuals, fuck marry kill, would you rather…)

muffin - come blabber with me! (it can be anything under the sun, from casual stuff to wip info about a certain fic of mine)

bread - tell me a random fact about yourself and I’ll say who I ship you with!

cake - i’ll give you a culinary-themed song that has your vibe!

bun - i’ll tell you which specific baked good has your vibe!

croissant - send me a sfw request! 

pie - send me a nsfw request! 

moots: @oncasette @fightingdragonswithwho @fxllfaiiry @fettuccin-e @cosmal @creelteeth @inkluvs @inklore @reidslovely @spideyheart @ddejavvu @happyheidi @appocalipse @skullrock @starlit-moonlight @chvoswxtch @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @bruisedboys @midniteluv @bcyhoods @vhagarlovebot @bradshawed @mystcldydrms @katyswrites @strrawberrryjam @amorchai @venuslore @slvttyfied @ghostlyfleur @saraswritingtipps @cozhycottaghe @bunmurdock @chxrryhansen @fushic0re

[fortheloveofwonderland]

My Reply | S.R

This one was a request from the lovely @reidsaurora-replies for my milestone celebration which got wildly out of hand. I think I damn near used every lyric of the song in this one. Also, Maeve does not exist in this universe. I felt like his phone calls with her were too similar to the letters with reader and not needed

Summary - Spencer writes his deepest tragedies down on paper for his pen pal. After ten years of exchanging letters and some divine intervention from JJ, the two of you finally come face to face.

CW - this one covers most of Spencer’s canon storylines including Tobis Hankel and his drug addiction, his moms illness, his fathers abandonment, getting shot in the knee, his headaches, Emily’s “death”, prison arc, Mr Scratch and Emily’s kidnapping, angst, interfering friends, lots of literary quotes.

WC - 6.3k

Making friends was always something Spencer Reid had been inherently bad at. He was always too young or too smart which always seemed to put people off of forming friendships with him. 

When he joined the BAU, his team called themselves his friends. But Spencer knew if he’d met any of them outside of work he would have nothing in common with them. 

They were simply friends by proximity, which admittedly was better than having no friends at all. But he couldn’t talk to them about everything, afraid to scare them away with talk of his mothers illness or his fathers abandonment. 

And sometimes he just needed to talk to someone. 

It was Garcia’s idea that he sign up for a pen pal. When she found out about his mom during the course of the fisher king case, he’d confessed that he didn’t feel comfortable talking to the team about such things. 

At first she’d actually suggested talking to someone online, she had many online friends who she talked to in various chat rooms. But after almost an hour of trying to explain that to the technophobe doctor and getting little more than a deep frown in response, she changed tact. 

A pen pal appealed to Spencer greatly. He already wrote daily letters to his mom and found it somewhat cathartic, getting his thoughts down on the page, but he never bothered her with the darker stuff. 

The idea of a faceless person he’d never meet reading his deepest, darkest thoughts was actually intriguing to him. And so with the help of Penelope he found himself a pen pal. 

In his first letter he’d just introduced the basics, his name and age, what he did for a living and that he lived in DC. 

He went on to explain how hard he found it to make friends and the difficulties of talking to his already established friends about the darker parts of his life. He ended the letter with a quote from To Kill a Mockingbird.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view…until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” - Harper Lee.

He received a reply little over a week later. 

Your name was Y/N and you were twenty two, three years younger than him and a grad student at Columbia University. You told him you would be happy to read whatever he sent you, that you were more than willing for him to write to you about the things he didn’t tell his friends. 

You signed off with a quote of your own quote from the book Infinite Jest.

“You will become way less concerned with what other people think of you when you realise how seldom they do.” - David Foster Wallace. 

And so he did just as you said and he wrote another letter. 

His second letter to you was five pages long. He went into great detail about his mothers illness, how he’d been left to deal with it alone at ten years old. He wrote about how he’d made the decision at eighteen years old to have her committed to a sanitarium. 

He told you about growing up as a child prodigy in Las Vegas and how hard that was. You were the first person he ever told about Alexa Lisbon and being tied naked to a flagpole. 

He spoke about the events surrounding Elle leaving the team and how it didn’t feel complete without her. 

He ended the letter by apologising profusely that he’d wasted your time with his long winded rambles and said he hoped to hear from you soon and scrawled a quote from The Great Gatsby.

“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald.

He said he would understand if you didn’t reply. But you did. 

The letter took two weeks to arrive and you explained that it was because you wanted to really process his words and give each and every one of them the time they deserved. He read the last few lines of your letter over and over again in a loop even though they were etched into his memory after only one glance.

I wish there was something I could say, to erase each and every page you've been through,

even though it's not my place to save you. 

“When I get lonely these days, I think: so be lonely. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.” - Elizabeth Gilbert - Eat, Pray, Love. 

He wasn’t familiar with the book and so he’d gone out and brought it and read it cover to cover within an hour. 

Reading your letter made Spencer feel understood for the first time in his young life. You didn’t pass judgement on him. Spencer found that between the pages of your letters he found a kindred spirit. 

The letters continued back and forth for several months until one day you didn’t receive a reply. His last letter had been penned to you on route to a case in Atlanta, which you’d responded to the day you received it. But there was radio silence from Spencer. 

You shouldn’t have been as worried as you were, but you couldn’t help yourself. His letters had become such a huge part of your world, often rereading them hundreds of times just to make sure you didn’t miss any little nuance on the page. 

His handwriting was ingrained within you, his scrawly, sometimes barely legible penmanship danced behind your eyelids every time you closed your eyes. His letters had rapidly become the best part of any day. And for over a year you didn’t receive a reply. 

After a while you’d stopped holding out hope every time you collected your mail. Eventually you gave up ever expecting to hear from him again. Maybe he didn’t need you anymore. Perhaps he’d made a real life friend, maybe even a girlfriend and you’d been rendered ineffective. 

But then little over a year after you sent your last letter, you found an envelope in your mail slot with the familiar handwriting you adored so much and the DC postmark. 

Y/N,

I don’t really have any excuses, all I can say is I’m sorry. I have written you fifty three letters over the course of the last year but never mailed a single one. They are piled up on my desk, addressed and even stamped, but I couldn’t bring myself to mail them. 

I’ve been struggling, I can’t lie to you. I can’t even lie to you through a letter and tell you I’ve been fine because I haven’t. I think you would see through my prose, know that I wasn’t being truthful. And you’ve never given me a reason to be anything but honest with you.

The case in Atlanta was one of the hardest I’ve ever worked. I’m not going to beat around the bush, I’m just going to tell what happened and hopefully this letter will end up with you and not in the pile on my desk. 

I was kidnapped by the man we were hunting down. I spent two days tied to a chair being beaten within an inch of my life but a man with multiple personalities. In fact, that’s not strictly true. I wasn’t beaten within an inch of my life; one of the personas killed me. 

I’m not entirely sure how long I was technically dead before he revived me but obviously not long enough to cause permanent neurological damage. Irreversible brain damage occurs after four minutes without oxygen so it stands to reason it was less than four minutes. 

But during that time, my life flashed before my eyes, including every single word of every single one of your letters. 

One of the alter’s drugged me in his own way of trying to save me. Drugging me was supposed to help with the pain, both mental and physical. I fought it at first, desperate for him not to stick that needle in my vein. But after that first hit, I stopped resisting. 

I think you can probably already see where this is going. You’re incredibly smart and you seem to know me so well. After I shot Tobias Hankel dead I took three vials of dilaudid from his corpse. 

I should have prefaced this by saying I am now ten months sober, and offered up the good news first. But there were several months that I continued using the drug in secret, hoping it would aid in erasing the memories of it all. 

It took a case in New Orleans in which I met up with an old friend Ethan and ended up almost destroying my career for me to decide to get sober. I’ve had a lot of difficulties in my life, as you know, but getting clean is the hardest thing I have ever done. 

And now for the first time in months I’m craving again. Maybe that’s why I’m writing to you, determined to send this letter this time. I need to know that everything is going to be ok and you are the only one that I will believe it from. 

My team tries. Now it's all out in the open, they try to help. But you don’t even need to try. Your help is so effortless, so easy and I’m in real need of that right now. 

His letter went on in this vein for another six pages. He also included several pages of handwritten poetry which he had copied out of a book to send you. With each word you consumed you felt your heart breaking for him a piece at a time. 

And he signed off with a surprising choice of quote from The Lorax.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.” - Dr Seuss. 

You spent the next month or so trying to cultivate the perfect reply, but for the first time in your life, words failed you. 

It was three days after Spencer received his one year sober chip that your letter arrived. 

I got your letter and the poetry you sent me, postmarked in December of last year. I really hope you’re doing better, all your friends close by your side, one step closer to recovery.

I hope by the time you receive this you are close to one year sober, but if you didn’t make it you need to know that’s ok too. Life is full of ups and downs Spencer. If you didn’t make it this time you will the next time. Or the one after that. 

If you relapsed I need you to not beat yourself up over it. You will be ok, Spencer Reid, for that I am certain. 

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.” Maya Angelou - I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. 

***

When he got shot in the knee, he wrote to you from the hospital. He told you how hard it was for him to turn down pain medication when he was in so much agony. But he was over two years sober now and he wouldn’t do anything to risk a relapse. 

Your reply spoke of how proud of him you were and how you knew it couldn’t have been easy for him but you hoped the fact you were proud went some way to aid him. 

He told you it meant more to him than you would ever know. 

Then he started having headaches and the letters became sporadic. When he did write he told you how painful it was for him to try to focus on the words in front of him. 

I’ve seen so many doctors and no one can tell me what’s wrong with me. It’s like they think I’m making it up, like this pain isn’t real. 

On my good days it’s a dull throb but on the bad days it’s nearly paralysing. I’m so scared that this is a precursor for schizophrenia. I'm still young enough for my first break, and it is a genetic illness. 

I love my mom but I can’t turn out like her, Y/N, I just can’t. I'm so, so scared. 

But your letters are the greatest comfort to me. I don’t think there are words to describe how much they mean - I will try to surmise it with a quote from Charlotte's Web -

"'Why did you do all this for me?' he asked. 'I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you.' 'You have been my friend,' replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.'" - E.B White.

You could feel his fear through the pages. His handwriting was somehow even harder to read than usual and sentences often tapered off with no ending. There were whole passages scribbled out so violently his pen had ripped the paper in places. There were crude drawings of brains and dark rain clouds in the margins. 

Spencer, 

I am so sorry you are going through this and that no one can give you the answers you seek. But this isn’t the end for you, even if it is schizophrenia, you can still live a full and normal life. 

If you'll just hold on for one more second, if you just hold on to what you have, you will wake up tomorrow. Behind every rain cloud lies the sun. As Victor Hugo said in Les Miserables -

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” 

In his next few letters he seemed to be getting better, his headaches slowly dissipating until they only hassled him every once in a while. Things seemed to be looking up for him. 

But then one of his best friends died. 

His detailed letter told you all about Ian Doyle and Emily’s history with him and went on to conclude how she died on the operating table. 

I’ve been through a lot of trauma in my life, lost a lot of people close to me but never like this. I’ve never had to bury someone I love and honestly I don’t know how to move past this. 

My initial reaction has been dilaudid. It's the only thing I can think of to take the pain away. 

Tell me not to do it, Y/N, please. Please tell me that this grief will get better and that using drugs again is not the answer. Please help me stay clean. 

"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time — the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers.” John Irving - A Prayer for Owen Meany

It took you longer than it should have done to formulate a reply. You felt pressured, like his sobriety hung in your hands. You hated that his friend had died but you didn’t think it was fair of him to put this on you. And you told him such.

Spencer,

I am sorry to hear about Emily, I know how close the two of you were. I’m no expert on grief, I can’t tell you how to deal with this.

You know full well that using dilaudid again is a bad idea, you really don’t need me to tell you that. Honestly, I’m a little frustrated at you for putting this on my shoulders. 

I am always here to help Spencer, in any way I can but sometimes I think you expect too much from me. We’ve been trading letters back and forth for the better part of five years and I don’t think you’ve ever really asked me about myself aside from those first initial letters.

And it’s fine, you needed this friendship more than I did. But over time this has started to feel so one sided and I don’t always look forward to your letters as much as I once did. 

I realise this is not the best time for me to be saying these things but I can’t hold back any longer. I’m glad I can be someone you can turn to but I have my own life, my own issues and I have no one to talk to about them. 

You put too much pressure on me Spencer and it’s a lot to take. I’ve tried to help shoulder your misery all these years but it’s starting to bring me down. All I can say is you need to wake up, you've gotta believe; you can't give up. Time keeps going on without us, long after we're dead and gone.

And you finished it with a simple quote from After You by Jojo Moyes.

“No journey out of grief was straightforward. There would be good days and bad days.” 

It was no surprise to you that you didn’t receive a reply. 

***

Y/N,

It’s been two years and I’m sorry for that. Two years, one month and eleven days. The truth is your last letter was hard for me to read as you can probably understand. 

The hardest part of reading it was the fact that I knew you were right. I’ve been selfish all these years. I’ve treated you like a sounding board for my problems and never once asked how you were. 

It's taken me time to write this because I wanted to get to a better place before I responded. I was angry at first, I felt like I was being abandoned again and my anger would not have been conducive. 

Then I was hurt, hurt that the one person I thought would always be there for me had turned their back on me. I displaced my grief over Emily’s death onto you and anything I would have written in that time would have only been the rage fuelled epitaph of a grieving man. 

And then once I dealt with those emotions, life simply got away from me. Emily was alive and well, her death was faked to get Doyle off of her back. Again I was angry about being lied to by my friends but eventually I was just happy she was alive. 

Then I turned thirty and had a crisis of faith I suppose. I guess with my intellect I always assumed I would be doing something more with my life and turning thirty kind of threw me through a loop. 

We had some changes to the team, new agents coming and going. All in all things have been somewhat hectic. 

But that’s not why I’m writing. 

I am writing because I really do want to know everything about you. I want you to be able to open up to me the way I always have to you. I want to be your shoulder, your repreve. I really hope I haven’t completely blown our friendship and I hope to be the kind of person who you can talk to. 

These arms remain stretched out to you and maybe someday you'll accept them. Maybe it's too late to save a young girl's heart that's long stopped beating. But I hope that it isn’t. 

“You have been in every way all that anyone could be…if anybody could have saved me it would have been you.” Jennifer Niven - All the Bright Places. 

You wanted to tell him it was too little too late, that after two years of silence you weren’t interested anymore. 

You wanted to simply not reply, ignore him entirely like he’d done to you. 

But you couldn’t. And so you replied. 

It was your longest letter to date, depicting in great detail how he’d made you feel over the years and all the hardships you’d faced without having someone to vent to. 

But getting to write it all down had been purifying, and by the time you were finished you weren’t mad anymore. 

I am willing to give this another shot, but things have to be different. If we’re to continue this friendship then it has to be a two way street. 

But I can’t pretend that I haven’t missed your letters because I have. I see pieces of you between the words, parts of yourself I’m not sure you realise you leave on the page. 

I’ve painted a picture of you in my mind's eye and even after two years with no letters, I’ve carried that picture with me wherever I go. 

I feel like I somehow know you better than I know myself and I hope going forward you can start to know me the same way. Charlotte Bronte once said -

“Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear.” - Jane Eyre. 

***

Spencer didn’t know how it happened, he only knew that it had happened. Over the course of all the years writing to you it was almost a surprise it hadn’t happened sooner. Or maybe it had and he just didn’t realise until now. 

Spencer Reid had fallen in love with the woman who wrote her prose to him. 

It had been ten years of letters, every single one of which he kept in their envelopes in date order in the bottom drawer of his desk at home. 

Those letters were his lifelines on bad days, the one thing that kept him tethered. He didn’t even know what you looked like, even what you sounded like but he loved you. He loved you with every fibre of his being. 

And he couldn’t stop himself from telling you exactly what you meant to him. Even if it inevitably destroyed what the two of you had, he couldn’t stop the words from flying across the page. 

So that’s pretty much everything that’s happened these past few weeks. Mom’s doing ok but obviously it's a huge adjustment for her and I’m not entirely sure how long I can keep her living with me but for now it works.

How did the interview go? I have absolutely no doubts that you blew them all away with your presentation, you’re a hard person not to fall in love with.

Your presence in my life has brightened my every waking minute. You once told me that behind every rain cloud lies the sun; you are the sun behind my clouds. Your letters bring me back to life, your handwriting penned onto my soul. 

Is it foolish of me to be in love with someone I have never laid eyes on? William Makepeace Thackery said in Vanity Fair -

“It is better to have loved wisely, no doubt: but to love foolishly is better than not to be able to love at all.” 

I suppose that’s as good of an answer as any. 

***

Five days after he penned his love confession, he was arrested in Mexico. Once all the drugs had left his system, only after he was extradited and arraigned and placed at Milburn was he able to dwell on the fact he never received your reply. 

And being trapped in a cell gave him way too much time to think about that. 

It was possible you had replied, maybe even just to tell him he was crazy to even think he could be in love with someone he had never met. But he was sure you wouldn’t have even bothered to respond, thinking him a lunatic you needed to cut ties with. 

After a month in prison on one of JJ’s visits she brought a letter with her which she had found in his apartment. She recognised the handwriting on the envelope from several she’d seen him reading over the years. 

She wasn’t allowed to give him the letter but she offered to read it to him. At first he’d declined because he had no idea what to expect from your reply but after several long minutes he’d decided to let JJ read it to him. 

Spencer,

I am pleased to hear your mom is doing well but I do think you know that this solution won’t work in the long run. You say you live in a one bedroom apartment? You and I both know that you can’t sustain having your mother live there permanently. But I know you and I know you will figure out what’s best for you both.

The interview was amazing and they offered me the job on the spot. If it wasn’t for all your help with the presentation there is no way I would have gotten it, so thank you so much for that. 

As for the other thing…

For some time now I have been wondering about feelings I didn’t understand. You’ve been such a large part of my life for so long and even though we’ve never met I feel like we have, if that makes sense? I feel like in my heart I know you. My heart knows your heart.

Falling for you was as inevitable as the sun rising each morning. Perhaps it is foolish but I believe Thackeray knew what he was talking about. And I also believe Emily Bronte was talking about me and you when she said, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” 

Spencer had interrupted JJ then, when she was smiling from ear to ear as she read your words out loud. 

“That’s enough.” He cut her off, burying his head in his hands.

“Wow, Spence, I had no idea you’d met someone.” 

“I haven’t met anyone. She is simply a woman at the other end of a series of letters.” 

“How long?” JJ placed the pages down in front of her.

Spencer looked up at her, a small blush on his cheeks. He didn't want to be talking about this, least of all on the other side of a plexiglass screen with his other inmates nearby but he responded all the same.

“Ten years.” He shrugged. 

“Ten years?” JJ sounded incredulous. “Ten years of letters and you’ve never met? Why?”

“I, uh, it never really came up.” It wasn’t a lie, you’d never once discussed meeting in all those years. 

“Is it like a distance thing? Does she live far away?” 

“No,” He sighed with a shake of his head. “She’s in New York.” 

“New York!” She huffed. “New York is a five hour train journey, Spence!” 

“Jennifer, now is really not the time for this.” He lowered his voice as JJ’s had garnered eyes in their direction. “There is really no point in discussing this as we have no idea when or even if I’m going to get out of here.” 

“Don’t say that.” She shook her head.

“It’s true.” He shrugged sadly. “I really can’t think about all this right now, ok? Just take the letter back to my apartment and pretend you didn’t see it. Please?” 

If it weren’t for the desperation in his eyes she might have argued it. But she didn’t want to waste what little time she got to spend with Spencer fighting.

“Ok.” She relented with a small roll of her eyes.

“Thank you, JJ.” He offered a tight lipped smile. “How are the boys?” 

JJ filled him in but she wasn’t really focused anymore. In her head, she was already penning a letter of her own…

Y/N,

My name is Jennifer Jareau, JJ, and I work with Spencer at the BAU. I’m not sure if he’s mentioned me to you or not. He hasn’t really told me too much about you if I’m honest. But I have learned that he has strong feelings for you and you for him. I’m wondering if I can make a suggestion…

***

When you received the strange letter from Spencer’s friend JJ in response to yours, you’d been initially extremely confused as to why he was letting his teammates read your secret correspondence. 

But when she’d gone on to tell you that Spencer had been arrested along with all the details surrounding his incarceration and how she’d read your letter to him during their visitation, you started to understand. 

But then a few days later, before you had a chance to reply to her, you received another letter from Spencer with a postmark from Milburn Correctional Facility.

Y/N,

Maybe Thackeray and Bronte were right or maybe they were wrong, I can’t say for sure. What I can say with certainty is that I can’t carry on like this a moment longer.

Something has happened to me, it won’t be hard for you to figure out what as soon as you see the postmark. I am not willing to get into it or explain how I ended up here. But I have no idea how long I am going to be inside and I don’t want the rest of our communication to be sent through a string of guards who will pick apart each tormented sentence. 

I ask you not to write me back. This has to be the end of the road my dear. This letter has to be our last. I don’t know how much longer I will continue to be able to live like this. Each day my hope dies a little more and I’m sure I won’t make it out of here alive. 

I am writing simply to say thank you. Thank you for all your years of listening, for all your patience and kind words and your hopeful prose. In my darkest hours you have shown me the light, dragged me out of the shadows of my own creation. 

I love you for all that you are and all that you have done but even you can’t save me this time. This really might be the end for me and I don’t want you to blame yourself. You are the only reason I made it this far in this treacherous game we call life. 

Take care of yourself, continue to live your absolute best life. And in time I pray that you forget me and are able to love someone far more tangible. 

All that is left to say can be summed up by a quote from The Miniaturist - 

“You are the sunlight through a window, which I stand in, warmed. My darling.” Jessie Burton.

You replied firstly to Spencer, his heartbreaking words more pressing than JJ’s letter. You kept it short and to the point, knowing that various other prison guards would read it before it even made it to his hands. 

I appreciate but can't accept this thank you note that's sealed with your last breath and I won't stand aside and listen to you give up. 

You are stronger than that Spencer Reid and if I know anything about your team from all the years of hearing you speak of them it’s that they are the best at what they do and they will prove your innocence. 

Just remember what Ernest Hemmingway said in A Farewell to Arms -

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are stronger at the broken places.” 

You will be stronger at those broken places, Spencer, I have no doubt about it. 

And besides, if you don’t make it out of there, how do you  propose to ever meet me? 

Whilst on a role, you grabbed a clean sheet of paper and started scrawling again. 

Jennifer,

Thank you for your letter. I have spent some time musing on your suggestion and I think you might be right. 

I think it's time for me to take a trip to DC…

***

Spencer never opened your last letter because he had no intention of replying to it. If he didn’t read it, he could pretend you had never sent it and he wouldn’t be tempted to write a response. 

Instead he stuffed it between the pages of his book and tried not to think about it. 

After two and half months his team proved his innocence and he was released but he was thrown into the deep end of trying to find his mother. 

And even once he found her unscathed, he was rapidly thrust right into Scratch’s web after he kidnapped Emily. 

Taking the elevator back up to the BAU alongside JJ after they’d escorted Emily to the hospital it already felt like a lifetime had passed since he left prison. And all he wanted to do was chronicle all of it to you. 

Maybe once the dust settled, once he’d wrapped his head around everything that happened he would open your letter and send you a reply. 

But for the first time in ten years, Spencer didn’t want to drag you into his mess. 

JJ was strangely quiet as the elevator made its ascent. He didn’t even want to be here, he’d planned on going straight home after leaving the hospital. He hadn’t slept in his own bed for two and a half months and he couldn’t wait to collapse into it. 

But JJ had insisted that instead of him getting the metro home, if he popped back to the BAU with her to collect some paperwork, she would drive him home. 

And honestly he was just too exhausted to decline. 

JJ’s eyes were hyper focused on the digital floor numbers as they got higher. A few seconds after it displayed number five, one floor below the BAU, she turned and looked at him. 

“Don’t hate me for this.” She blurted out. 

“Excuse me?” Spencer frowned, too tired to try to understand what she meant. 

“I couldn’t just let it go.” She shrugged, a guilty smile on her lips. 

“Let what go?” His frown deepened. 

Her eyes flicked back upwards as the number five rolled into the number six and the elevator started to judder as it prepared to stop. 

“Just remember I love you and that’s the only reason I interfered.” She shrugged as the elevator stopped entirely and soon the doors were peeling open. 

Spencer looked away from her and out of the open doors to where someone was standing just a few feet back. 

Spencer’s eyes landed on the stranger only it wasn’t a stranger. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew exactly who this person was standing on the BAU floor. 

He remembered the way JJ had read him your letter and how you’d told him your heart knows his heart. 

Well his heart knew yours too. And he knew the heart beating a few feet away from him was yours. 

“Y/N?” He croaked, slowly stepping out of the elevator but not too close to you. 

“Spencer?” You smiled at him, the kind that reached all the way to your eyes. 

Neither of you noticed JJ slipping quietly away, wanting to give you some privacy. 

“What are you doing here?” His brows were furrowed and he was rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You’re friend JJ wrote to me. She told me everything that happened to you. And she made me realise that ten years is too long to wait for a first meeting.” Your voice was like honey to Spencer’s ears. 

Your prose was beautiful, but hearing the words from your lips as you stood in front of him in all your ethereal glory was more than any letter could convey. 

“I…I am actually speechless.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

“You? Speechless?” You giggled and Spencer felt the sound all the way to his heart. 

“You’ll come to learn I am much more of a wordsmith on paper. In person I am incredibly awkward and often trip over my words. I ramble when I’m nervous or clam up entirely, no in between. I spout facts and statistics rather than have a meaningful conversation. I am much more comfortable writing my words down on paper than speaking them out loud.” He let the words spill out of his mouth, proving his point entirely. 

“I’ve waited ten years to hear your voice. Please never stop talking.” You smiled so brightly at him he felt like he was floating. 

You were here in front of him, not just hidden between pages of letters. You were real, tangible; within his reach. 

And suddenly the last thing Spencer wanted to do was talk. 

He took a few tentative steps towards you and cautiously raised a hand to your cheek. You sighed in content when he cupped your face and nuzzled against his palm. 

“I could talk to you about anything and everything all day long, my love.” He smiled, inching his face closer to yours. “But at this moment in time I have one slightly more pressing desire to do with my mouth rather than speak.” 

“Oh yeah?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. 

The warmth of your body and your smile encompassed him. As he looked into your eyes, finally looked into your eyes, every bad thing that had ever happened to him slipped away. 

“Love starts as a feeling, but to continue is a choice. And I find myself choosing you, more and more every day.” He quoted Justin Wetch’s Bending the Universe. 

“Spence?” 

“Yes Y/N?” 

“As sweet as that is, I thought there were more pressing desires to use your mouth for?” 

“If you insist.” He smiled and quickly closed the small space between you.

When his lips finally met yours it felt like all the pieces of the universe were falling into place. 

For ten long years you’d communicated in the pages of letters, constructing replies to what felt like one sided conversations that were confined to only live on paper. 

As the kiss deepened every single one of those words seemed to float in the air around you, spiralling like a tornado made of a decade worth of missives. 

He swore he could hear each and every word whispered to him in the voice he’d longed to hear all these years as he kissed you like you were the most important being on the face of the earth. 

And when he pulled back and mumbled I love you against your lips, it was the easiest reply you’d ever given. 

[akamikazae]

Kazzzzzz congrats on the 300!! May I humbly request Vi from arcane in your style so my eyes could feast?

Tysm my dear ! ❤︎

This was a treat to draw ~ Vi is one of my favs :) requests still open !! X

[monstersholygrail]

Once again the polls were soooo close. God, I eat this kinda stuff up. I love when two options are basically fighting to win. It’s so much fun. The choose your own adventure polls go hard

The fact that it was between hate/angry sex and domming his ass is literally everything to me. Yall are so awesome istg. Bro deserves to get turned into a pathetic little sub. But angry sex will be just as rough and delicious if not more so

I noticed quite a bit of a dip in engagement for this installment. I hope you guys are still enjoying this series and having fun with it

I know the options were a bit different this time due to reader needing to go see the headhunter. But your options on who to fuck are returning in the next fic!

Headhunter Dragon will be featured and I’m so excited for you guys to meet him. He’s a cocky douchebag so you’ll have to fuck it out of him. Turn him into a sloppy mess. Expect claws, sensitive scales, fire breathing, and a fun little plot twist. It’s gonna be hot asf. Pun intended

[midnight-mourning]

300 Followers Special!

AGH IT HAPPENED AGAIN

was legit just checking through my blog and realized but at least i caught it in time!!

Thank you all so much! For this and for all the support everyone gives on the silly things I make. I know the last like, several months of this blog have been chaos (from posting often to nothing while I was sick to semi-daily in December etc. etc.) so I appreciate everyone sticking with me through it all very much <333

I'll admit there's.... a LOT going on right now (looks at my wips and at my research to-do list) BUT, i don't mind adding something to the list! It just might take a bit of time to get to it lol

Pulling from the 100 follower milestone celebration ideas that didn't get picked, as well as a few other things I came up with, will do the top two if results are close :D

BUT feel free to pick the 'other' option if you have soemthing else you'd like to see! I will do whatever since this is me saying thanks ^^

Little bit of info on each thing below the cut, excited to see what you pick!

Q&A/Ask the Cast: a classic, I know my ask box is open but here's also a clear chance to ask something that you've been really curious about! I won't share spoilers for the story, but everything else is on the table, including stuff about me, writing etc. Just no super personal questions is all! Additionally, you can ask the cast questions and answers will be in character, perhaps with a little doodle as well ^-^

Writing Requests: same as all the other request things I've done, same rules apply (no nsfw, suggestive is fine, be specific if you want specific) and will be about 500-1000 words each

Doodle requests: I provide you with a little drawing I made with tender love and care (would be lined, colored, shaded, etc.)

A peek into the drafts: I do in fact have a couple other fic ideas floating around in my brain that I simply haven't started so that I don't get bogged down/focus on CS. I would share those and a little bit of concept art

AU Oneshot/Continuation: I take a oneshot I've written and add MORE to it in some way, anything that I've written is up for grabs (besides my multi-chap stories ofc) This includes my Promptober responses, DCA December, 'Secret' gifts I've done, and any other drabbles or such. Examples of times I've already done this would include Holiday Spirit (continuation of DCA December Day 7), and Restart (continuation of Promptober Day 29)

DIY the DCA: silly idea I've thought about where using my knowledge as an MechE I determine the costs of materials, equipment, etc. for what it would take to build the daycare attendant yourself, would it be completely accurate? probably not I am not an expert, would it be fun? yeah I fuckin love deep-diving on mcmastercarr for shit

Chekov's Gun Analysis Post: i explain and go line by line about ch. 15 of Confused Spirit and explain all the little callbacks, hints, etc., why i love it so much, and so on

Other: explained above, don't be shy to tell me if none of these sound interesting! Won't hurt my feelings :)

[woodrocko]

HELLO HELLO WORLD!!

*credz to every zingle one of my mutualz for their oc’z

TIME TAKEN WAZ 3 HOURZZ!!1? makinr thiz my background pzpzpz,,,

TELL ME IF YOU WERENT INCLUDED AND ILL ADD YOU!1!?

[flowerandblood]

Milestone Celebration

There are so many of you already that I can't believe it! As a thank you for your commitment, comments, reblogs, asks, messages and everything you give me, today I have a little game for you, in which I hope you will take part!

What is it about? Choose any of my stories I have finished (it doesn't matter if it's a series or a oneshot), write its title to me in the ask (they can be anonymous or not), choosing as many emojis from each category as described. Based on this, I will create short stories with these characters (1500/2000 words).

Place

(choose one)

🥙 Restaurant

😇 Church

💦 Swimming pool

🤡 Amusement park

🌲 Nature

🏛️ University

🏰 Castle

🏠 House

🖼️ Museum

🎯 Shooting range

🎹 Concert

🍺 Pub

⛽ Car

🚿 Toilet

👛 Shop

Time

(choose part of the year and part of the day)

🔥 Summer

🌸 Spring

🍁 Autumn

❄️ Winter

🌞 Day

🌜 Night

⭐ Morning

✨ Evening

What

(Choose two)

💖 Date

🎉 Anniversary

🎂 Birthday

🎁 Christmas

🦄 Wedding

💥 Argument

🙀 Surprise

😌 Relaxation

💫 Accident

🎃 Jealousy

💐 Care

🤒 Illness

🍄 Fun

🩸 Hurt

How

(Choose two)

💕 Comfort cuddling

🌺 Tender gestures

💣 Rough fucking

🍓 Sexual tension

🍑 Temptation

🥵 Hate sex

🧁 Sweet care

🌼 Soft lovemaking

🙊 Dirty talk

😬 Semi-public sex

😭 Pathetically desperate

💀 Dark desires

I ask that each person limit themselves to sending one request, so that the topics do not repeat themselves and to give everyone a chance. I will attach screenshots of the messages I have already received to this post, so that you know what will be created. Remember to write a title of my fic first. Have fun, don't be shy! 💕

Requests I already received below 👇

[joyousjoyfuljoyness]

I have officially hit over 100 sticker designs!

Many new ones are available for preorder, and I'll be having my final sale this Friday!

Stay tuned for when the sale drops!