#also you’ve read more of the books than i have now and you’re gods bravest soldier for doing that

[sarcastic-clapping]

another convert here your posts about amc iwtv and the books and the movie always intrigued me i was like i gotta get into this crazy shit so i read iwtv then watched s1 then continued reading and now i'm all the way up to the prince lestat era and deeply unwell. but also i've never felt more alive i love being a sicko i owe it all to you

[aperrywilliams]

Pour Some Sugar On… Me? (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: What if Reader and Spencer want to try something new in bed?

Word Count: 6522.

Warnings: Smut (NSWF); 18+ (please respect that!). Sexual talk. Fingering. Oral (male/female). Spanking. Penetrative and unprotected sex. Food play.

A/N: This fic was written to my dear friend @spencers-dria in the 3rd Fic-Swap from @imagining-in-the-margins Discord Server. For reference, the song alluded here is this one.

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Days off are a blessing and a curiosity in your job. It's not that you hate it; on the contrary, you couldn't be happier doing what you do, but there are times when you need to take a break. Working at the BAU is something you always dreamed of, and once you got it, you were still willing to give your 100%. But the last few months have been intense and stressful. So having a day off was welcome. Most welcome if you could spend time with your now-boyfriend Spencer. Wow, how weird that feels to you. After working at the BAU for almost five years with Spencer, it was only four months ago that you dared to confess your feelings for him. To your delight, he also admitted that he had feelings for you. Of course, the whole team already knew that, except for you two. But hey, as they say, better late than never, right?

The first date was almost dreamy. Like a real gentleman, he picked you up at your apartment. He took you to dinner in a nice and quiet place where you both could talk. You guys had a lovely time chatting and laughing at how blind both of you were for so many years being friends and not admitting that you liked each other. At the end of the date, at the door of your apartment, you saw how nervous he was, and you took your chance: you kissed him first. After that, things flowed the way you always wanted them to. Spencer was the most caring, loving, and amazing boyfriend you've ever had. All of your previous relationships didn't even compare to this. You were sure you loved Spencer, but neither of you dared to say the three words until the first time you both had sex. It took you longer than people say. You guys didn't do it after the fourth date or the fifth. It was after a case. At that time, you had already been dating for almost two months.

It had been a difficult case. It took more than eight days to find the unsub. The entire team made superhuman efforts to identify and catch the killer. But you were one of the most affected because the case was in your hometown. You knew some of the victims or their families. That had you on the brink of collapse, but you managed to stay focused, and it was even you who managed to connect the dots and arrest the unsub. All the case tension showed in you when you guys flew back to Virginia, and you burst into tears.

Spencer was the one who sat next to you and hugged you, holding you in his arms throughout the flight. Whispering words of reassurance to you and stroking your hair and back. That night you asked him if he could stay with you. You didn't know if you were okay enough to be alone. He, of course, accepted. Neither of you both was thinking about anything other than being with each other. Still, the kisses on the forehead became kisses on the cheek, then kisses on the lips, neck, collarbone... that's when the three words came out.

"You're the bravest woman I know. You're the best in your job, you care about people. I'll never stop to amaze by that quality of you. I love you, (Y/N)," Spencer whispered, his lips brushing yours. And maybe you kissed him for the first time, but he was who said to you 'I love you' for the first time, and you lost your mind.

You said it back almost instantly, throwing yourself into his arms to kiss him and repeat those three words over and over again. You got up from the couch and took his hand, guiding him to your bedroom. That first time was slow, loving, gentle. It was the living definition of 'making love.' It was unique, and you never felt more loved in your life.

Spencer could agree with you on that. He always told you that accepting the fact he wasn't a man with a lot of experience in sex, he felt that time was the first time he knew what it was like to make love and not just fuck someone. Maybe he didn't use those identical words, but it was basically what he meant.

After that first time, many followed. And saying 'many' may even be an understatement. Not long after, you realized that Spencer was always eager to touch you and to have sex with you every time he could. It wasn't something that bothered you, quite the opposite.

Sex with him was always great. He always cared to satisfy you and make you come before him at least once or twice. Even when the time was limited, Spencer never allowed himself to leave you without an orgasm.

Thinking about that, there was something about that passion on him that led you to wonder what the limits would be for Spencer in bed - if he really had them. Sure, everyone might have thought that sex with Spencer was mostly vanilla and innocent - if the word 'sex' and 'innocent' were allowed to be put in the same sentence. But something inside told you that he could be into other things, that he maybe could be into experimentation in bed. You didn't know if Spencer could be a kinky guy. He never talked about that. But you could feel that maybe he had something like that in him. You promised yourself to find out.

But that afternoon of your day off, you weren't exactly thinking about that. Instead, you were focused on replicating a recipe that Rossi had shared with you last week. The last time you went to his house for dinner, you fell in love with the dish he made on that occasion. Spencer had offered you to call for some take-out instead of cooking, but you were hell-bent on replicating Rossi's recipe.

While you were cooking, Spencer was in the living room reading a book. He had offered you help, but you decided against it. You'd rather make a mess in the kitchen without him seeing you, and besides, he had the right to spend his afternoon off without having to cook.

You liked to cook. You didn't do it frequently for lack of time. And because you weren't a very efficient person at cooking: you always used more utensils than necessary, spilling as much as could be spilled on the floor and on the counters. That meant every time you embarked on something in the kitchen, you had to spend a lot of time cleaning everything afterward. But it was your day off, so it didn't matter. Thus you connected your phone to the speaker you had in the kitchen, put on your favorite playlist, and got to work.

You lost track of time when you realized you were almost ready. Tasting the sauce at its temperature and flavor, you were satisfied with the result. So satisfied that you started dancing and singing as you began the arduous task of cleaning up your mess. Coincidentally, one of your favorite songs started on your playlist. That encouraged you to dance and sing more animatedly.

You have always been quite eclectic for your musical tastes, but you can't deny that your guilty pleasure was the '80 glam. Which you have only allowed yourself to enjoy in the privacy of your home, doing tasks as domestic as cleaning the kitchen, in this case. The best part of the song was playing, and you couldn't help but pick up the broomstick to dance around it.

[You got the peaches, I got the cream. 

Sweet to taste, saccharine.

'Cause I'm hot - hot, say what, sticky sweet

From my head -head, my head, to my feet

Do you take sugar? One lump or two? 

Take a bottle - take a bottle - shake it up - shake it up - 

Break the bubble - break it up - break it up 

Pour some sugar on me. 

Ooh, in the name of love. 

Pour some sugar on me. 

C'mon, fire me up...]

Singing wasn't enough, so you didn't save energy to put a show dancing into the music's rhythm. You were at it when you turned around and saw Spencer watching you from the kitchen entrance. The blush rose to your cheeks immediately, you stopped dancing and singing, but you still didn't let go of the broomstick.

Spencer stood up from the couch because he wanted to check on how you were doing and if you needed any help. He could hear the music and how you sang, but he didn't think he would find you dancing using a broomstick as a pole. Because that's what you were doing, an authentic pole dance in the kitchen.

Moving your hips sensually, up and down, with sweat running down your body. Your wet shirt clinging to your body accentuating your nipples - because, of course, you weren't going to wear a bra on your day off. The scene itself made Spencer freeze staring at you. Worse yet, when you added the music to the stage, it brought Spencer into the hot dimension. He could feel beads of sweat accumulating on his forehead and how his lower half began to reveal a particular need for attention.

"Spencer, oh my God. I didn't see you here," you apologized. But he didn't say anything or moved from where he was. Because undoubtedly he was lost in thoughts. About what? Well, not of you sexy dancing in the kitchen. Not him imagining you dancing naked in front of him. Not him imagining you naked over the kitchen's counter whit spread legs. No, he wasn't thinking about how your body could taste with sugar on it.

"Spencer?" you repeated.

Shit. What's that? Someone is calling his name. Oh yeah. You.

"Uhm?" he barely replied.

"Something is wrong?" you asked hesitantly. You didn't know if Spencer was shocked in a bad way.

"Uh- no. Everything is okay..." Spencer assured you.

"You zoned out, you sure are you okay?" you insisted.

"Yeah. Perfect. More than okay," Spencer said, trying to regain some composure.

"Did you want to ask me something?"

"Oh. I - just if you needed help," Spencer offered, remembering why he was there in the first place.

"No baby, I'm okay. Thank you. I'm sorry for the show by the way," you stated with a grimace and a blush in your cheeks.

"What?"

"I'm not a good dancer as you could see," you joked. He smiled and looked at you from head to toe.

"I wouldn't say that... I wouldn't say that at all," he stated with a minimal perceptible smirk. You took his response as a cue to relax.

"Okay, well. I'm done with dinner and cleaning. I think I need a shower now. Could you set everything in the dining table?" you asked.

"Sure," he replied. You passed by his side, stole a peck from him, and headed to the bathroom.

Spencer stood in the kitchen doorway for a few more seconds before reacting. His mind wandered into the world of possibilities of things he could and want to do to you. His erection agreed with each and every one of them. He was amazed at himself at the things that went through his mind. Not that he has never thought of 'different' things to do in bed, but he had never been motivated enough or found a partner to do them. Maybe you were the one for that. Why not? Spencer promised to test waters with you when he got the chance, but for now, what he was clear about was that he wanted to fuck you hard after dinner.

Not only were you satisfied with the result of the dinner. Spencer congratulated you for replicating Rossi's recipe so well, even giving it your own special touch.

After the dishes, you both sat on the couch to watch TV. But Spencer was distracted enough to pay attention. You were curled up next to him with your arms around his torso. He had an arm around your neck, stroking your arm. Slowly he began to kiss your head while his free hand caressed your cheek. You raised your head to look at him and found his eyes fixed on you. You smiled at him, and he leaned to kiss you. You kissed him back. As the seconds passed, the kiss became more intense and passionate. Without thinking twice, you changed position to straddle him. Thus you guys started a making-out session. You could feel Spencer's eagerness matching with your own. That intensity transformed into moans and dancing hands on both of you.

"God (Y/N), you feel so good," he whispered in your ear.

"Uhm. You too, Spencer. So so good... so so sweet," you added.

Spencer couldn't help but bring to mind the moment he saw you dancing in the kitchen.

"Like sugar..." he mumbled in your neck, grabbing your ass with both hands.

"Sticky sweet..." you said offhand, grinding your hips forward, looking for some kind of friction.

Your intention was not to bring the song you were listening to previously. Still, it was in your unconscious and apparently, in Spencer's too, because when the words left your mouth, he emitted the deepest groan you have heard from him in a long time.

"Oh, you liked that, uh?," you teased. Spencer nodded.

"Yeah... that show of yours in the kitchen did something in me," he confessed.

"Uhmm... and you think you would like to try something like that?" you probed, biting his earlobe.

"Try what?" Spencer replied, massaging your breasts over your shirt.

"Pouring some sweet on me?... and taste me?" you asked, and another groan left Spencer's throat.

"Yes. Yes. Surely yes," Spencer hastened to reply with his lips nibbling your collarbone. You smirked. Spencer Reid was showing the experimental side that you wanted.

You were about to suggest the first experimental activity when both of your phones started ringing at the same time. That only meant one thing: a new case. A growl of frustration came from both of you. Spencer looked at you with longing eyes, and you could only shrug.

"We'll have to put this on standby until we get back," you said after a sigh, pecking his lips.

"Okay, but I need a quick cold shower anyway," Spencer replied. You agreed.

The case took the team to Alabama. You and Spencer sat apart on the jet, both of you still feeling frustrated by the sudden interruption.

You tried to focus on the case and managed to do so. However, Spencer had a harder time doing it. Not that he was repeatedly thinking of you, imagining you naked in your bed, inviting him to taste your sweet body. Of course not. Damn, these days would be torture for him.

One of the first things you guys noticed once you got off the jet was the infuriating heat in the area. It was summer, and the town where you landed seemed to be the driest in the region.

Worse was realizing that the air conditioning was under repair at the police station. The entire team in a room trying to focus on the case, trying not to think about the place's heat.

"How uncomfortable! I feel so sticky and we haven't even been here four hours," you complained at one point. It was just you, Spencer, and Emily in the meeting room, going through files.

"Yeah, this heat barely allow to work," Emily agreed.

"Indeed, I'm sweating as I were in a sauna," you added. When you looked at Spencer to ask his opinion, you saw him flustered, with pink cheeks. You frowned, but you didn't want to say anything to him. His eyes barely met yours.

In Spencer's mind, only one verse was repeated over and over: 'Cause I'm hot - hot, say what, sticky sweet. From my head - head, my head, to my feet'. 'Fuck' he thought when he realized where his brain had gone. That was one of the moments where Spencer Reid hated his eidetic memory. He roamed your body with his eyes in the most subtle way he could. Spencer fixated on the sweat running down your forehead and down in your throat. That clearly wasn't helping the erection that began to show under his slacks.

By the second day, you guys had barely managed to get a few clues to locate the unsub. The good thing was that at least the air conditioning was fixed. You were with Morgan and Spencer in the meeting room. At the same time, Spencer wrote something on the board to illustrate a mathematical formula. Suddenly the marker stopped writing.

"What...?" Spencer wondered in frustration, looking at the marker.

"Baby, shake it up," you suggested. Spencer turned to face you, mouth agape.

"What?" he asked. Again you could see his cheeks all flushed.

"The marker. You need to shake it up," you replied. Morgan furrowed. He didn't know why Spencer was suddenly so nervous. But you started to find it out, and the thought made you smirk.

In Spencer's mind, another verse was repeated again: 'Shake it up. Break the bubble - break it up.' Along with that, he could see you in your apartment's kitchen, lowering your butt to the floor and moving you sensually. His mind went beyond, and he remembered the first time you gave him a handjob. Spencer froze when he saw Morgan and you looking at him. Then he turned, shook the marker, and kept writing. Jeez, what's wrong with me? he thought.

By the third day, you guys had already managed to deliver the profile and were in search for the unsub. After a round of interviews, you were in the station's kitchen making yourself a coffee. Spencer arrived with the same goal, apparently. He smiled at you, moving his mug in your direction since you had the pot in your hand. You put the precious liquid in his cup and left the coffee pot in its place. Spencer was adding his usual unhealthy amount of sugar to his coffee, and you couldn't help but make a comment to teasing him.

"Do you take sugar? One lump or two?" you teased. Spencer's eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he recognized the verse coming out of your mouth. You couldn't help but laugh, confirming your theory. Spencer was about to say something when Hotch came into the kitchen to put coffee in his mug as well.

"Are you two okay?" Hotch asked. You nodded yet chuckling. Spencer just nodded, focusing on his coffee.

You took the cream and put some into your coffee. Before you put it on the counter, you made the last move to finish off Spencer.

"Oh, sorry. I got the cream, do you want some? This one is so sweet to taste," you offered. And Spencer gave you a look that could have knocked you down right away.

If another day had passed, Spencer would surely lose his mind. Fortunately, on the fourth day, you guys managed to arrest the unsub and fly back to Virginia that afternoon.

You arrived at the BAU almost at dinner time. You hadn't had a chance to tease Spencer that day, and you thought it was for the best because as soon as you grabbed your things to go to the elevator, Spencer followed you from behind. You both entered the elevator without anyone else from the team. As soon as the doors closed, Spencer's lips were on yours, kissing you like he imagined doing it for the past four days.

"Tonight we are not going to cook, we are going to order take out, but after catching up, understood?" he clarified. You only nodded, feeling the heat between your legs.

As soon as the door to your apartment closed, Spencer dropped his go-bag and cupped your cheeks to begin kissing you. Almost as passionately as in the elevator. You moaned and dropped your go-bag as well. Your arms around his neck bringing him as close to your body as possible. Spencer began to kiss your neck while his hands danced between your sides and your hips.

You would have accepted that Spencer to fuck you in that moment and place, but you had an idea in mind and wanted to put it to test, no matter how eager both of you were at that minute.

"Baby, wait," you breathed out. Spencer stopped and looked at you with concern.

"What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" He panted.

"No, no. Quite the opposite, but... I need you to ask you to wait a moment, okay?, could you do that for me?" you asked. Spencer let out a sigh.

"To wait?, yeah. I can do that. But, are you okay?" Spencer asked again.

"Yeah. I promise you this will worth it," you replied, pecking his lips and heading to the kitchen. Spencer looked at you confused, but he didn't say anything. He sat down on the couch, waiting for you.

You took your time, and Spencer started to worry, but you called him from your bedroom before he could ask something.

"Baby, can you come to help me?" you asked. Spencer stood up from the couch and walked towards your bedroom. The door was ajar, and he pushed it open. He wasn't ready for what his eyes found. Oh boy, he wasn't prepared. Or maybe he was. Too much prepared, you could tell: four days prepared.

You were lying in bed, your body barely covered in matching black lace. And even 'barely' could be too much. But to Spencer, that wasn't a problem at all. He enjoyed every time you took your time to surprise him with those details. He scanned all your body at the dim light of the bedroom.

"Wow... (Y/N). I thought - I, you... needed help?" Spencer stuttered. He couldn't move from his spot in the bedroom entrance. You smiled and played along.

"Yes. I do, actually. You can come closer?" you asked flirtatiously.

"Yeah. Yes. Of course," Spencer replied, taking a step forward, feeling his heart pumping hard. That wasn't the only thing he wanted to pump hard, though.

"Would you help me with something here?"

"Any- anything." You grinned at your accomplishment: Spencer in awe and speechless. So you pointed to a white bowl with honey in the nightstand. Spencer tilted his head.

"Would you... pour some sugar on... me?" You kept your voice seductive.

And... he lost it. His brain stopped working. All his bloodstream focused on that part of his body that wouldn't stop shrieking until its complete satisfaction. Like a small computer, his remained neurons only could process a simple string of commands: clothes off/ jump to the bed/ taste you / eat you / fuck you. Simple.

The first command was successfully completed in no time. You never saw Spencer peeling off his clothes so fast before. You couldn't deny how much his eagerness turned you on. You felt your wetness coating your panties. So warm. So hot. You didn't know if you would be capable of ending this foreplay without coming. But, who cares anyway? You surely would enjoy this.

Spencer was kneeling in front of you on the bed. You didn't think twice and started putting on a show. Still making eye contact with him, one of your hands took the bowl from the nightstand. You put two fingers into the bowl and took out a little amount of honey, which began to drain through your fingers. You slowly brought those two fingers to your mouth and started to suck the honey from them. A moan of satisfaction came from your throat at the sweetness. But what really made you lose your mind was seeing how Spencer, with his lips parted, licked them with his own tongue without taking his eyes off you. Another thing that worked perfectly as motivation for you was seeing his hard cock twitching at the sight of you. What a confidence boost.

When you finished cleaning all the honey from your fingers, you repeated the same. Putting two fingers inside the bowl, removing a little of its content, but now you offered the delicious treat to your excited boyfriend.

"Do you want to taste it, doctor?"

Spencer couldn't release any word but nodded and leaned, catching your sweet fingers with his mouth. Both of you leaving scape a deep moan when Spencer started to suck your fingers to remove all the honey from them. You closed your eyes, feeling his hot tongue around your fingers.

When there was nothing left to remove, Spencer's mouth released your fingers in search of your lips. When his lips found yours, he began to kiss you as if the world was going to end. It was a passionate, lustful kiss. You moaned into the kiss. He took the chance, and his tongue started exploring your mouth. The taste of honey on him was intoxicating.

When both parted for some air, you opened your eyes to see Spencer looking at you as you were the most gorgeous and sexy woman on earth. Well, you were for him. You blushed a little, his gaze was intense, and he hardly blinked. Spencer leaned to kiss you again, and when you parted, the only words that came from his mouth were...

"Did - did you know honey is associated with love and sex in both the Bible and the Karma Sutra? At traditional Indian weddings, the groom is often offered honey to boost his stamina," Spencer explained. He reached your cheek with one of his hands and stroking it. His lips latched in your neck. You chuckled mischievously.

"Well, it's good to know that. But I was thinking of using it in another way, you know?" you coyly stated. Spencer parted and saw you, smirking as well.

"Oh yeah?" You nodded as you get some honey from the bowl and spread it slowly onto your stomach. You took some more and smeared it in the column of your throat. You left the bowl on the nightstand and beckoning to Spencer to step closer.

"Do you want to taste it, doctor?"

"Oh God, yes," he hastened to reply. His hands roaming your legs.

"Then taste it, all of it," you invited.

Just a second took Spencer latching his mouth on your stomach. He started sucking and licking the honey from your body. His hands grabbing your hips and yours tugging his hair.

"You taste so good," he said, muffling his words on your skin. "I thought about this all-time we were in Alabama," he confessed.

"Did you? What did you think about? Tell me..." You asked. Spencer now nibbling and licking the column of your throat. A load moan escaped your mouth, feeling Spencer's hot tongue against your skin, moving to your neck. That sweet spot that drives you crazy.

"I thought about kissing your soft skin, about brushing you with my tongue, about... the sounds you do when I touch you, and you're aroused," you let out a moan, and Spencer smirked in your neck.

"Yes, those moans that I love so much. I thought about your breasts. God, your breasts..." he muttered as one of his hands unclasped your bra, taken and tossing it to the side. With your breasts on display, his mouth moved from your neck to the south. Before stopping in your bosoms, Spencer reached the bowl with honey, grabbing some with his fingers, and smeared it in your nipples. The substance was cold, and you hissed a little.

"Easy love, I'll take care of it," he said. His voice low and sexy. God, you sometimes had a hard time trying to understand that the shy guy you pinned for years was so hot in bed. You don't complain, though. You love it.

Spencer put his fingers in your mouth, and you wasted no time sucking them. He let out a groan of satisfaction and clasped his lips in one of your nipples, swirling it with his tongue and flicking the nub up and down, removing all the honey from them. You let out a howl, muffled with Spencer's fingers in your mouth, pressing your tongue.

"Fuck (Y/N), you indeed taste so sweet," he praised, letting out his fingers from your mouth and moving it, tracing a slow path to the hem of your panties. He slid them under the thin fabric, searching your clit massaging it gently.

"Spencer, oh God. That feels so good." He moved from one breast to another one, repeating his motions.

"Yeah, you feel so good. Your are so good for me (Y/N). I could stay here all night. You have no idea how much I thought about that stupid song and doing everything on you," he whispered, releasing your nipple to move his lips to your navel.

"Please, please Spencer..." you whined. If you teased him before, now you just wanted him to fuck you mercilessly.

"What do you need sweetheart?" he asked.

"You. I need you to fuck me," you replied, feeling Spencer's tongue in your navel traveling south.

"Yeah. And I need to fuck you. That's I'm going to do now. You want that dirty girl?"

"Yes!"

"So... you teased me all these days. You knew what you were doing. Don't you think I need to repay you for that?" Spencer said as toying with your panties' waistband.

"What? Are you going to punish me? Doctor?"

For those who said kinks don't fit in all relationships, maybe they were right. But in Spencer's view, this was not the case. In the most pleasant way possible, he discovered that the kinky side of him fitted perfectly, and you seemed pleased too.

"Oh, do you want that, my dirty girl?" And before an answer, Spencer slid your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Now, his goddess laid naked on her bed, ready for him, waiting for him.

Spencer grabbed your thighs and pushed them open, revealing your core for him.

"What a beautiful pussy we have here," Spencer coed. Picking some more honey from the bowl, he smeared it in your inner thighs, tracing a path to the spot where you needed him most. You wanted to scream. Before you do so, Spencer started washing the honey from your thighs. He did it from down to up, brushing your clit with his tongue in every licking.

"Fuck Spencer, I know I teased a lot these days but please..."

Spencer smirked between your legs, but he kept doing what he was doing. When he was sure he removed all the stuff from your thighs, his tongue focused on your clit.

"Yes!... oh God," you cried.

He moved one of his fingers between your folds, coating the wetness, and the pleasure was indescribable. His tongue still focused in your clit, circling and licking. Spencer put a second finger, curling them and reaching that spot inside of you that had you whining in no time. Your moans encouraged him to speed up his motions. Your hands were on his hair, eyes fluttered shut, lost in pleasure. Moans filling the room while his hands kept your hips onto the mattress, stopping you from buck forward.

"Spencer, oh my God. Please, don't stop!" you begged. His fingers never stopped thrusting you in and out, and his tongue having a feast with your clit. You could feel the knot down in your belly about to explode.

"Cum for me, dirty girl," he mumbled yet with his mouth on your clit and his fingers thrusting mercilessly. Then you cried, feeling your orgasm hitting you like a train.

When you descended from your highs, you propped yourself in your forearms to look at Spencer. His mouth coated with your arousal and smirking at you.

"C'mon baby, I need to taste you too," you demanded with a lazy voice, still dizzy from your orgasm.

"As you wish," he replied, sitting on the mattress with his back resting on the headboard, looking at you. Eyes full of lust. You kneeling in front of him first admiring his big-hard cock, tip coating with precum. You replicated his same motions: grabbed some honey and smeared it into his cock. Spencer moaned at the simple sight.

"Now I'm gonna taste how sweet you are baby," you announced. 

Resting on your elbows, you took the tip in your mouth, tasting it slowly. He groaned hard. Of all the times you gave him a blowjob before, for Spencer, this was undoubtedly the most amazing of all.

You moved your tongue, swirling around him, making sure of licking the pounding main vein. Spencer's breathing was sharp and unsteady. 

"Oh shit (Y/N)… you take it so well, your mouth feels so good," he groaned. You keep your task hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head. You set a steady pace that made Spencer jerk with each movement. He tried to keep his eyes open to see how you were working on him, but when you speed the pace, he couldn't help throw his head back, closing his eyes in uncontrollable pleasure. Spencer was sure that if you kept doing that, it wasn't going to last much longer, and he was aiming to cum in another part of your body, not your mouth.

"(Y/N)… I need to fuck you right now," he panted. You released his cock and looked at him with a full satisfaction grin. "Knees and hands on the mattress," he commanded, still gasping. You happily complied. With your ass on display, Spencer hardly thought about it and instinctively spank your buttocks with his open hand.

You hissed to the sharp feeling, but it was pleasant. Spencer had never spanked you before, and the very fact had you turned on. Spencer hesitated a little when he realized what he did, but your words lifted any doubt he can have.

"Again! please!... do it again," you begged, and Spencer complied, spanking you again now in the other buttock. You moaned, and Spencer groaned.

"You like that, uh?" he teased.

"Yes!" And he did it again. The sharp pain was nothing compared to the pleasure that followed. You could feel the head of his hard cock in your entrance. Slowly but with no hesitation, he pushes into you. You could feel every inch of him, and it was glorious. A loud wail left your mouth. Spencer hissed, feeling your walls clench around him. Spencer bottomed out, and he took a moment to catch his breath.

"(Y/N)… shit. You're always so tight. You feel so good," he praised.

"Yes, baby, all for you," he grabbed your hips tighter, pulling out his cock almost to the tip and then pushing again into you as he started a slow but intense pace.

As you searched for the perfect rhythm, only moans, praises, and your names came out of your both mouths. Spencer pounded to you harder and faster. You were both a bundle of moans and sighs. You could feel beads of sweat running down your body. The skin-to-skin slamming sound was lustful and wild but delightful. You were both lost in the single goal of pleasing each other and reaching your orgasms.

"Fuck Spencer! I'm gonna cum!" you cried.

"Yeah, sweetheart, me too. C'mon, give me your sweet cum, and I'll give you mine," he commanded.

Spencer moaned, on the edge of his own pleasure. His words did the trick. He thrust you once, twice, and in the third one, your impending orgasm exploded in you, running through your entire body. You curled your toes at the pleasant feeling, moaning Spencer's name and another sort of lost words. Your walls clenched around him tightest, you still in your high, feeling his cock twitched before he expulsed his warm release into you. Your eyes squeezed shut in delight, feeling how he rode out your both orgasms.

You guys stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Spencer was the first to move, pulling out of you, as you turned to your back in the mattress. He rolled to your side, both of you looking at each other with a huge grin, still panting.

"Wow... that was..." he trailed off, setting a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Yeah... I know. Amazing," you replied, giggling.

"Why we didn't do this before?" Spencer wondered.

"Well, I don't know. But I wanted to," you confessed.

"Why you didn't tell me then?" he asked, stroking your cheek.

"Maybe I didn't know if you wanted to try things like these?" you hesitantly replied. Spencer looked at you lovingly. He could stay and admire you forever if he could.

"I must confess I didn't know exactly if this kind of thing could like me, but with you... I'm sure there is nothing that could dislike me. If you want to try anything, I'm more than willing with you," he replied, leaning to kiss you. You smiled into the kiss. 'How could you be so lucky to have someone like him?' you thought. The funny thing is that Spencer believes the same about you.

"Well, I think this experimentation went quite well, don't you think?" you said, beaming.

"Yes, I do. But now we're sticky, we need a shower," Spencer acknowledged.

"Sticky sweet," you corrected. Spencer chuckled and offered his hand to you to stand up.

You both went to take a shower. Needless to say, the shower served not only to clean up the remnants of your previous activities but to add new ones. You guys came out of the bathroom exhausted, changed the sheets, and plummeted onto the bed.

You snuggled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer hugged you and kissed your forehead. Both ready to fall into a deep sleep.

"Please, remind me tomorrow emailing to Joe Elliot to thank him," you mumbled, nuzzling into Spencer's neck. Your eyes flutter shut and dozing off.

"Who?" Spencer asked, confused. You chuckled, almost falling asleep. Of course, Spencer didn't know who he was.

"Let's say we both practiced today what is pour some sugar on me, thanks to him," you giggled. Spencer breathed a laugh.

"Oh. Okay. Thank him for me too," Spencer said, smirking.

"I will,” you replied, snuggling more close to Spencer. “Spencer?" you asked him, a few seconds far to fall knock out.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he mumbled, almost in the same condition as you.

"I love you," you blurted out. Because it was true. Your love for that man grows any second passed, and you didn't care to admit it now.

"I love you too, (Y/N)... sticky sweet," Spencer replied. You both giggled, groggy with sleep. "And (Y/N)?" he added like he forgot something important to tell you.

"Uhm?"

"Can we listen to your playlist tomorrow? I'm curious about what are we going to do next." You didn't remember if you replied to him, but you surely would think of something new to try next in your dreams.

———————

AN2: I’m sorry but I’m a sucker for 80′s music.

I’m tagging some moots around here!: @andiebeaword @blameitonthenight21 @dreatine @sierraraeck @paulaern @calm-and-doctor @spencers-dria @safertokiss @hopefulfangirl24  @reverdevivre  @matthewstiles1912 @goldentournesol @psychedellic-phase @psychicdonuts​

[gubesboo]

That should be me

HEY!! ITS MEEE! I posted quite some time ago that maybe I should post a fic so HERE IT IS FINALLY MY FIRST FIC! I’m in nursing school so it can be difficult to write also I read all of these amazing stories and think I could never so hopefully you enjoy this!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: uhhh cursing, suggestive sexual language, mutual pining, fluff (cause I’m a fluff whor3), maybeeee angst? idk I think that’s it other than pretty bad writing!

Italicized = readers thoughts 

Bolded= spencer’s thoughts

Word count: 3.5k

Y/N POV 

Working at the BAU is not what you were expecting. Long hours, early mornings, sleepless nights. Don’t kid yourself, you loved your job, but at times it can seem that the bad outweighs the good. Only one thing could lighten you up on your darkest days and it was him. Doctor Spencer Reid. Spencer was everything that you hope for in a potential partner. He’s patient, caring, intelligent, also did I mention insanely attractive. Over the years of working there you and Spencer had become best friends, even rivaling Derek Morgan as his, and Penelope Garcia as yours. See being best friends is great, although completely platonic, the late night movie marathons, weekly coffee meets, along with working right beside him on your darkest days, you have come to love the brown mop of curly hair and hazel eyes that is Spencer Reid. Well, the problem that now is… BEING in love with Spencer Reid.

The bullpen having it’s normal hustle and bustle left you with your thoughts. You didn’t even recognize the man of the hour as he called out to you.

 “Y/N…? Y/N... Y/N!!”.

 “Oh.. sorry Spence, what’s up?”, you blushed a little, embarrassed that this man could have the power to zoned you out any minute of the day.

“Are you okay? You seem a little out of it.” Spencer so worriedly responded.

It’s the little things like this that could someone so easily make anyone fall in love. Spencer Reid could read you like a book, which is not something out of the ordinary for him. These microscopic gestures is something he knows that you take close to heart. 

“What? OH! Yeah I’m fine Spencer this paperwork is seriously getting to me now.” 

He let out a little laugh at your response. “Yeah I can see that, that’s why I offered you a fill on your cup of coffee.” 

Yeah you know what else you can fill. You thought in your head for the quickest second but just as quickly you could feel the heat rising in your face. With this you were quick to stand up to take the attention off of you. “You know what yeah Spence that would a-actually be great! I’m just gonna...uh… go see Penny real quick, I forgot I was meeting her to give her back her… s-sweatshirt she left at my place!”.

Oh god are you screwed. Dammit Y/N get it the FUCK together. “Oh ha.. You know, that might be helpful” you reply trying to act aloof. Spencer just smiles hesitantly parting your ways as he walks towards the break room for coffee, and you go to Garcia’s to give her the ‘sweater’. 

Spencer looked at you quizzically causing you to quickly turn to head that way. Just before you walked out of the bullpen you heard Spencer say “Uh.. Y/N.. do you want your bag?”. 

Barging through the door of Penelope’s headquarters, she turns around at you wide eyed like you have just escaped a wild tiger. 

“Y/N are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Great. “Penny I am LOSING it here.”

She looks at you worried like you actually have tossed your head off of your shoulder. “Oh this is about boy wonder now isn’t it” she so dubiously recognized. 

“Yes Penny I have no idea what I’m doing here, I can’t focus on my work, I’m embarrassing myself left and right, and to make matters worse this whole thing is completely one sided!”. 

Penelope looks at you sadly, she wants more than anything for you and Dr. 187 to get together but the stress of seeing you in this state almost breaks her heart. “Y/N, have you tried talking to him about it, we see the way he acts with you. Always going out of his way to make sure you are safe and happy, he doesn’t do that with just anyone…” 

You had to give it to her, Penelope always puts on the bravest face for you, that’s why you love her so much. “It’s not just me Penny, what about JJ… or Emily even, he does the same for them… look I’m just trying to be realistic. Someone like Spencer would never go for someone like me. He IS a genius, and I can barely make it through one day where my mind doesn’t get sidetracked.”

Penelope had had enough with your self doubt, she knew you were one of the most talented on the team. “Y/N ENOUGH! First of all, JJ and Emily never stay with Spencer and binge watch Doctor Who til’ the break of dawn. We all notice the longing stares on the jet between him and you, the maybe a tad too long hugs before you guys leave… it’s obvious he’s into you. You know Spencer has a thing for germs yet he shook your hand on your first day here. Let that sink in for a second Y/N. Secondly, you are one of the smartest and talented people on this team. Remember last week when you guys were in Dallas, and YOU pieced together the unsub had a partner.. Y/N there would’ve been so many other victims if it weren’t for you, you have no idea how much everyone respects and values your accomplishments on the team, INCLUDING Spencer.”

Tears had welled up in your eyes, you never knew how much you needed these words of endearment. Sometimes it can be hard to believe this when you are always in your head about what you could've done better or simple mistakes that could've been avoided, sending you into a downward spiral. “Thanks Pen”, you smiled subtly. “I think I’m gonna go to lunch, do you want anything?” 

“No Y/N I’m good. Please go talk to Spencer, I have faith that it will really end happily for you” Garcia replied kindly.

 “You know what I will, also one more thing…” She turned back in her chair cautiously at what you might say next.

“Yeah?” 

“Um.. if anyone comes in here asking what I was doing, can you say I returned a sweater to you?”

 “Oh Y/N” Garcia said, releasing a school girl giggle, “You have SO got it bad”. 

You laughed out of her office, timid of what the rest of the day had left to offer.

SPENCER POV

Ok that was odd, I hope Y/N is okay. Was it something I said? Oh God what if Morgan spilled the beans on how I feel about her. She’s my best friend, no what Morgan would never do that...well...would he? Just my luck Morgan was in the break room filling up his mug, walking in he gave me the slightest smirk. 

“Well pretty boy how is it going with Y/N? Ask her out yet?” he said, taking a sip of his coffee giving him the side eye. 

“What!? No.. Morgan you know she doesn’t feel the same about me, she’s never demonstrated anything that could elude to being more than friends. I know it will never happen.” sadly stated, Spencer began filling up the two mugs. 

“Oh and you have?”  Morgan said chuckling at Spencer’s reply, it was obvious that not even the genius had shown any type of actions that would sway Y/N into thinking he wanted to be more than friends. Spencer of course recognizes this but the simple things must account for something right? The subtle cuddles on the couch, constantly getting her refills on coffee, late night hangouts when Y/N was having a crying breakdown. He doesn’t just do that for anybody, she has to know this right? Maybe it wasn’t too obvious. 

“Look Morgan, I’m trying alright? You haven’t told her anything have you, she’s been dodgy around me lately.” Spencer crouched into himself, thinking how he could mess up something that hasn’t even started yet? 

“Come on Spencer, I mess with you a lot, but not when it comes to ya girl man. Look if you think something is bothering her just ask her about it, I think you guys are close enough as friends to where you can ask her about something like that right? And if she does know about your feelings then you have your answer, if not, lay it on her Reid. You always miss 100% of the shots you don’t shoot.”

Listening to these words almost encouraged Spencer but the weight of the fact that he might be rejected by the one girl he has opened up his heart to is too much to handle. It is easier to sit on the sidelines and wait for the opportunity to erupt then seize it himself. 

“Yeah Morgan you’re probably right. I’ll ask Y/N about it at lunch. Thanks Morgan I’ll keep you updated.” 

Morgan chuckled to himself “Well hopefully you don’t have to tell me, you can show me when you get back.” 

With that, Spencer walked out of the breakroom with his and Y/N’s coffee right as she walked back into the bullpen looking slightly disheveled. “Hey Y/N! Lunch?” Spencer smiled at Y/N. 

“Ummm… Yeah! Sandwiches?” Y/N replied, Spencer realized she usually had sandwiches when she was stressed. Carb loading seemed to make everything better. He mentally noted this to ask about later. 

“Sounds perfect.” 

With that Spencer and Y/N walked out of the office timidly, overwhelmed with their inner battle tension fighting at them.

LUNCH- Y/N POV

Walking into their go to sandwich shop down the street had a warm and inviting atmosphere. Almost like a hug from your grandma, it never gets old. The smell of freshly baked bread spread through the room and even calmed the nervousness that had surrounded Y/N and Spencer. The girl at the register you’ve come to know as Jessica, noticed her most loyal customers and greeted them with a warm smile.

“Y/N! Spencer! Welcome back you guys! Are we having our usual today?”

Almost embarrassed by the amount of times that they come in that the waitress knows their order. They nod in agreement. A BLT with mayo for Y/N and a ham and turkey club for Spencer. 

“Don’t you know it Jessica” you replied, giving her a wink and handing her a 20. “Keep the change” you smiled.

“I’ll have it out to you guys soon!” She replied before going to the counter to assemble the lunch.

Spencer has seemed on edge since he asked you to lunch. Oh no had he caught on? Did he hear me and Penelope.. No he couldn’t have. Just breathe. It’s okay. You noticed Spencer about to say something when you were pulled out of your thoughts by an unfamiliar voice.

“Hi...Y/N?” you turned around to reveal a rather handsome man. What some would consider tall, dark and handsome. His black hair sat wavy on his head. He was cute you had to admit, just the perfect balance of toned without it being overbearing. 

“Uh, Hi. I’m sorry I don’t mean to come across rude but...Do I know you?”. There was something about him that was right at the tip of your tongue. He did look familiar but you couldn’t place the face with a name. 

“Oh right. Hi um Chase! From Easton Heights? We went to high school together.”

“OH MY GOD! Yes! Chase! We had Biology together right? Wow look at you! You look amazing, how are you?” Wow he has definitely aged well.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably. Maybe it was in his head but he could definitely see a connection between the two of them. 

“Oh sorry Chase this is my friend Spencer, we work together.” Ugh friends, even saying the word left a sad tone on your tongue. So much hope and wanting in the word, that the one you hope would notice was completely blind to the idea.

Chase extended his hand for a handshake but was matched with Spencer’s typical skepticism, waving back at him instead of returning the endeavor.

“Don’t mind him, it's a germ thing.” you said to Chase seeming almost offended by Spencer’s action but nodded in an almost condolence type of way.

This brought you back to your first day with the team. After exchanging handshakes with Hotch, JJ, Rossi, Emily, Morgan and a bone crushing hug from Penelope (you knew at that second this woman was going to be your rock), last up was the genius himself. To his surprise along with everyone else's he extended his hand to meet yours to introduce himself. Everyone around gave skeptic looks to the other, but to be honest, it was hard to notice everyone else when looking into Spencer’s eyes. From that moment on, you were hook line and sinker to the pipe cleaner with eyes. 

You reminisce about this moment along with Penelope’s words from earlier when you are pulled out of your thoughts by Jessica calling from the counter.

“Y/N, Spencer! Your sandwiches are up!” Jessica shouted from the counter.

Spencer went to grab the sandwiches from the counter while you and Chase continued the small talk. What he walked back in on made his heart sink to the pit of his stomach.

“Look Y/N I don’t mean to be forward but you obviously look great. I-I mean you’ve always looked great, I’m just saying adulting looks a-amazing on you. Anyways is there any way you are free tonight? Maybe we could meet up at this great Italian place in the city? Catch up a little?” Chase offered.

You had to hand it to him, he knew how to play his cards. As much as you wanted to hold out for Spencer, it was a stagnant relationship. No pull or tug anywhere as much as you wanted to, you didn’t want to set yourself up for heartbreak if you didn’t have to. You looked over at him. His face seemed unbothered by Chase’s actions. If he cared about you in more than a friend's way this would have bothered him right? If it did, he didn’t show it so you know what? Fuck it. Maybe it is self sabotage but, maybe this would be good for you.

“Uh, you know what? Yeah that would be nice. Maybe we can meet up around 7:30? Today is paperwork day at the office so I should be off at 5, gives me enough time to go home and change. Unless a case comes in of course.” You said handing him a card with your name and number on it, usually for business, but why waste time writing it down anywhere else right?

“Great I’ll see you then. It was nice meeting you Spencer.” Chase said with a warm smile before making his way out of the shop leaving you and Spencer in a limbo.

Well… THAT just happened. You thought to yourself as you walked out of the shop. Spencer seemed awfully quiet the walk back to the office only nodding and responding to your thoughts when absolutely necessary. Not even so much as the facts that you found completely endearing. You tried to brush it off as the midday lag, the sleep deprivation finally catching up to him, but that didn’t seem like the whole story. But at this point, you were tired of trying to read Spencer. Bigger and better things were waiting for you besides the man walking next to you. Or at least you hope there were.

THAT NIGHT- SPENCER POV

After an afternoon full of methodical paperwork, coffee, and self deprecation. Spencer goes home to his empty apartment, something that seems so full of light when Y/N is there.

If he had to admit it, this is something that Spencer had nightmares about. He knows it’s no one's fault but himself but he was right there. At lunch he was finally going to grow some balls and tell Y/N just how much he liked, probably loved her. But Chase happened. What if you fall in love with him, leaving Spencer in the dust. There is no way there could be time for a best friend AND a boyfriend. Especially not when Spencer wants to fill both rolls. He wants to be the one whose arms you wake up in. Who tries and horribly fails to make dinner for. To possibly get married and have kids with. 

He ponders this while staring at you contact information on his phone, finger hovering over the call button. It is now or never. Spencer thinks. 

“Fuck it.” Spencer says before grabbing his keys and coat, heading out the door.

YOUR APARTMENT- Y/N POV

Walking though your door and shedding your coat, you walk into your barren apartment thinking about the day you had. The rest of the work day had trudged along unbearably slow. You couldn't help but feel guilty accepting the date in front of Spencer. Sure, you guys were friends but on the way back and the rest of the day in the bullpen, Spencer had been avoiding you. When you looked over your eyes would meet, Spencer would clench his jaw and look immediately back down. He stopped the coffee refills, which was fine, but at some point he walked in on you pouring coffee just to do a straight 180 to walk out the door.

Ultimately feeling blue you decide to pick up your phone and text Chase to cancel the date. Not that you want to, but your head just wasn’t in the right place to go out. Even through the guilt of saying yes to Chase to get over Spencer, you thought this would be good for you, but it has only resulted in disappointment. Spencer should be happy for you! But it is obvious that this has affected him negatively. But why? Unless… no it can’t be. 

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Checking your phone it read 6:17 p.m. 

“Huh?” you thought out loud. 

Looking through the peephole you notice Spencer at the doorstep. Albeit sweaty like he ran a marathon, curls sticking out each and every way, you answer the door.

“Spencer? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” 

Bending down to put his hands on his knees he holds up a finger to catch his breath. Finally waiting for a beat he straightens up. 

“Don’t go.” He puts simply.

“What? Spencer.. What are you talking about? The date?” you say heart hammering against your ribs. This is actually happening right?

“Yes the date Y/N. Don’t play dumb. I can’t sit here and know you're going out with him Y/N. I… I love you. And I know it has taken me way too long to admit it but I thought about the future you could have with him, and to be honest that should be me there in that image, not him. I’m sorry if this is bad timing or if I’m too late, but I don’t care. I had to come here and tell you before I lost my nerve. I love you Y/N.”

You sat there mouth gaping open, staring him in the eyes. It felt like you just jumped into a freezing lake. Body frozen and heart hammering in your ears. Apparently this is the wrong move because Spencer noticed this reaction and turned to walk out the front door. 

“SPENCER WAIT!” you called out to him. It was now or never too.

“I cancelled the date.” 

“What?”

“Spencer, I cancelled the date. After I saw how you were acting, I.. don’t know… I felt guilty? Maybe it's because I’m trying to get you out of my mind. And I felt guilty for using Chase because Spencer, I am hopelessly in love with you. I mean unfathomably so. I just didn’t know you felt the same that’s why I never said anything. And I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought of the future with you in it Spence. I love you Spencer.” you say walking over to him grabbing his hands, intertwining fingers. 

You never even noticed the tears in your eyes while you stared into his. The world seemed to melt around you as he leaned in locking his lips with yours. Salty tears mixed with the taste of him and everything felt right. It felt safe and normal. 

You pulled away both of you smiling ear to ear as you wiped away the tears on his cheek. Leaning back in to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“So what you’re saying is you have no plans for the evening?” Spencer so cheekily replied. 

“Only with you.” You grin back with a soft chuckle pulling him to your couch for a long overdue Doctor Who marathon filled with cuddles and soft kisses. 

[erin-bo-berin]

By Your Side

MASTERLST

This was requested by and is dedicated to @be-the-bravest​, my name AND birthday twin. The poor thing dealt with appendicitis and an appendectomy on her birthday and a few following days. I’m so incredibly sorry that you had to go through that on your birthday of all days, Erin, but I hope this makes your recovery a little better. This is some incredibly fluffy, sweet goodness and you can’t convince me that Spencer wouldn’t do this for someone he loves. Hope you all enjoy some fluff to start your week and happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (fluff)

Word Count: 1,796

This wasn’t exactly how you’d planned your birthday.

You’d been excited about your birthday for months. You’d been dreaming about a day filled with spending time with friends, family and your boyfriend, Spencer.

You were too old for parties—not that parties were necessarily a bad thing—but you were one who much preferred eating out and going on adventures.

You’d planned an entire day; brunch with your family and Spencer at your parents house, browsing yours and Spencer’s favorite book stores, dinner with Spencer’s work family and then a movie marathon with him that night.

Spencer had even taken a day off of work, something he rarely did. Having a job in the FBI meant demanding work and you admired how passionate he was about his job. According to him, this was the first time he’d taken time off in well over five years. It was touching that he did it just for you.

When you were younger, the thought of getting older scared you. You’d realized with each year you turned a new age, you’d never get back any of those previous years. Now though, you viewed it as a celebration of another year filled with ups and downs—and making it through the year, especially when you got to celebrate it with the people closest to you. Besides, the older you got the less you worried about aging; you were only as old as you felt after all.

All of your anticipated plans evaporated as quickly as a snap of fingers.

The pain had begun the previous night, a dull pain in your stomach. You were expecting your period at any time, so you chalked it up to that. You went to bed early with a heating pad and no second thoughts. By the time Spencer had come to bed, the pain had eased a bit to the point of uncomfortable, but bearable pain and you didn’t consider anything else.

The bright, early hours of your birthday changed your opinion though.

You and Spencer didn’t have to be at your parent’s house for brunch until 11 am, but you woke just before 7, the pain in your abdomen more than you could bear.

You cried out as you tried to sit up in bed.

Either Spencer was just finely tuned to know when something was wrong with you or he’d slept incredibly light last night—something pretty unusual for him.

He was up in an instant, concern written all over his face as he checked on you. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

Definitely in tune with you.

“My stomach is killing me,” you groaned, “What time is it?”

He peered at the alarm clock on his side of the bed. 

“6:49. Why don’t you lay back down? We still have a few hours before we have to be at your parents’.”

Spencer helped you lay back down and took your heating pad.

“Do you need me to reheat it for you?”

You nodded, in too much discomfort to talk.

“Get some rest,” he said, kissing your head before heading downstairs.

A few minutes later, he returned with the newly warmed heating pad, wrapped in a hand towel and placed it on your lower stomach.

“Has the heating pad helped any?” he asked, recalling that you’d slept with it last night as well.

“It was last night. But now it doesn't even touch it,” you whimpered.

You’d never given birth, but you were certain this is what labor felt like.

The pain was like internal sharp pin pricks, but then it’d ease off into a more mild and dull sensation. No matter what you did though, the pain was still persisting.

“You look flushed,” he commented, worried.

“I’m about to burn up,” you said, tossing the heating pad aside.

He felt your forehead and looked even more concerned.

“Where exactly does it hurt, Y/N?”

You motioned to your lower abdomen and then to an area slightly to the right.

“We need to get you to the emergency room now,” he said, his mind made up.

“What? No! I’m fine!”

You tried to sit up and cried out at the sharp pain, tears forming in your eyes.

“Babe, it could be anything from an ovary issue to gallbladder issues. It might even be appendicitis, you need to get it checked out now.”

You knew better than to argue with him. Whatever plans you’d had for your birthday had just gone out the window.

•

You sat hunched in the emergency room as Spencer checked you in. You were in so much pain now, you couldn’t talk.

Unfortunately, it was a wait, but at least you were on the high priority list.

You sat, half hunched, half curled into Spencer, whimpering and clutching his hand the entire time you waited.

“I know honey, I know,” he whispered.

He alternated between rubbing your back, kissing your head and murmuring softly to you.

It took over two hours, but considering the normal wait time, you were pretty fortunate.

Things moved pretty quickly after that.

You were taken back, a full exam and blood work being done. Next, came an ultrasound.

An agonizing amount of time passed as you waited for the results of the ultrasound while still in a good amount of pain.

Spencer didn’t leave your side though. He tried his best to distract you and take your mind off of your pain.

He also was kept busy by keeping everyone updated. Between your parents and the team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit, his phone had hardly left his hands.

Your friends and family were amazing, sending you birthday wishes, videos to lift your spirits, even some of their kids had made drawings for you. It helped some and you were eternally grateful for Spencer as he kept showing you new well wishes with a smile on his face.

The diagnosis came back quickly, when they saw the ultrasound. Just as Spencer had suspected, it was appendicitis.

“You’re in luck, our surgeon is going to be able to fit you in for this evening. We need to remove the appendix as soon as possible to avoid any further complications,” the doctor on call—Dr. Martin—told you.

“Happy birthday to me,” you mumbled.

After Dr. Martin left, a nurse was the next to come in. She administered antibiotics to help fight any infection and told you the anesthesiologist would be there soon to prep you for surgery.

The day had simultaneously passed in a flash yet crawled at a snail’s pace. You no longer cared that it was your birthday, you just wanted to feel better. You were exhausted, in severe pain and wanted to cry, as if that would make you feel any better.

“I’m sorry you feel so awful, baby,” Spencer frowned, stroking your hair from where he sat next to the hospital bed.

You mumbled your thanks sleepily and yawned.

“You should try to sleep,” he frowned.

“I would if it didn’t feel like there was a knife lodged into my abdomen,” you groaned.

After the anesthesiologist arrived and administered your medicine, you didn’t remember much. With your exhaustion and the drugs both combined, the world blurred increasingly around the edges. Just as you were about to give into the seduction of sleep, you heard Spencer say something to you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’ll be right here by your side the moment you’re out of surgery.”

•

The next thing you remembered was waking up in recovery.

“Surgery went well, Y/N,” Dr. Martin said, “You should be good as new in two weeks.”

You gave a groggy groan and fell asleep again. It dawned on you that you hadn’t even checked to see where Spencer was, but before you could open your eyes to look, sleep took hold.

-

Your eyes opened again and it was dark outside. Only one light above the bed illuminated the room besides the moonlight that shone through the window.

“Nice to see you awake again,” you heard the familiar voice of your boyfriend.

You looked over and saw Spencer refilling your water cup for you.

“I got you some jello,” he grinned.

“Ugh, ew,” you groaned, turning up your nose.

You were definitely not a fan of jello—much to Spencer’s dismay.

“Hey, I resent that,” Spencer chuckled, “Technically I asked the nurse for some for you, but in reality I’m gonna eat it.”

He walked over to your bedside, leaning over and kissing you.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired and sore. Hopefully I get some good pain medicine,” you smiled weakly.

“Oh you will. Your nurse was just in here ten minutes ago and administered your first dose. She said it should be kicking in within a half hour.”

“Thank God,” you mumbled.

Your eyes raked over your boyfriend who—like he’d promised—was still at your side. He looked tired and rattled but relieved to know you would be okay.

“How are you, Spence? You’ve been up since 7 this morning,” you commented, worried about him.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he frowned, putting a hand to your cheek, stroking it gently, “I’m just glad you’re okay. I hated seeing you in so much pain.”

“Guess we won’t be having kids then,” you joked.

“Y/N,” he gave you a look, but he was smiling.

“Pretty sure I can survive labor if I survived that pain,” you said, “At least with labor you get an epidural. Spencer, invent an epidural for appendicitis, stat.”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling, a trait you loved about him.

“I think you need to rest, honey, you’re clearly sleep deprived.”

“I don’t want to,” you pouted, “Can you cuddle me?”

“I’m not gonna risk hurting you,” he said adamantly.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s my birthday still, right? I want cuddles.”

His face softened, any trace of his earlier humor gone.

“I’m so sorry you had to spend your birthday like this, Y/N,” he said, frowning.

He pushed a piece of your hair off your face and sighed, seemingly resigned to something.

“Alright, you win. Scoot over.”

You smiled, moving slowly and carefully over in the bed in an attempt to make enough room from him.

He spread out next to you, positioning himself to face you.

“Better,” you said.

You smiled your first real smile of the day then.

“You know, I may have had a shitty birthday, but I’m glad it was another birthday spent with you. You hardly didn’t leave my side.”

“I’ll always be by your side, no matter what you face.”

He took your hand, bringing it towards his lips and kissed it gently.

“I love you,” you smiled up at him.

“I love you too.”

 He returned your smile, placing an arm very gently over your waist.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @sundippedprincess​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @gretaamyk​ @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​ @blushingspencer​ @simp-for-mgg​ @victorzsaszmydaddy​ @inlovewithamess @im-inlovewith-mycar​ @xshakesqueerx​ @queenofmischief​ @mattgraygubler​ @graceluvsyouu​ @itsarayofsunshine​ @alexisparmentier @la-vie-en-amour1​ @pinkdiamond1016​

[smallestchances]

Almost Royal (2)

Long overdue?? Absolutely. Please forgive me? <3 Hope this was worth it!

Summary: (Y/N) is struggling more than she’d like to admit, and with the eve of her daughter’s birthday looming, she decided to give her daughter an unusual gift.

Pairing: Royal!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Douchebag boss, small amount of angst, mention of death, etc.

Masterlist

Taglist: @that-one-gay-girl @fanfictionjunkie1112 @flamencodiva @hoboal87 @cutestdolans @anaissomnia @kbl1313 @fuzzycloudsz @hollymac79 @vicmc624 @roxytheimmortal @lunaticgurly @coffeebooksandfandom @A-dorky-book-keeper @nihilismworld​

“Order up for table sixteen!”

The constant murmur of the diner around you only gets louder, and you skirt around the tables and patrons as fast as you could. Sweat collects on your top lip and your brow, the too small uniform chafing in almost every crease.

“(Y/N)! I told you, order up for table sixteen!” Sal yells from the kitchen, his baritone voice causing you to grit your teeth. You drop off the most recent order you had in your hands, giving them a quick smile before rushing to pick up the food.

You try to avoid the greasy cook, but Sal gives you a cunning smile that only makes your skin crawl as you pick up the four plates, balancing them perfectly. As you reach for the last one, Sal pushes it too far off the counter with his spatula, and it falls helplessly to the floor with a crash. 

“What the fuck!” Is all that passes through your mouth, and before you know it the whole diner has gone silent. Your fellow coworkers only look on with sympathy in your eyes, and it doesn’t take long before the usual white noise falls back into place.

“That’s quite an unprofessional mouth you’ve got there,” Sal reprimands, and you have to clench your jaw to prevent yourself from spitting in his direction. “I think I’m going to need you to open up tomorrow in order to amend that.”

“Sal--” you choke out. “You, you can’t do that. I’ve requested tomorrow off for the past three years--I’m already closing, I can’t do an fourteen hour shift tomorrow--”

“Then I can just take it out of your next paycheck,” he shrugs, starting to redo the food he destroyed.

All you can do is swallow. “No, I...I’ll come in at 6.”

“And?”

“And I’ll close at 8,” you mumble. 

“Good girl.”

It takes everything in you to go to table sixteen with the food in your hand, apologizing furiously on the delay for the last patron’s food. They seem understanding enough, and it almost makes the tears you were holding back fall from your eyes.

You thank God that you get to leave after the lunch rush, and you try to avoid as many people as you could. Driving quickly to the store and then home, you allow yourself to let out all frustrations as you blast your music.

When you finally get home, you’re about ready to collapse onto your couch and sleep when a piece of paper taped onto the grate in front of your door stops you. All you have to read is the big bold words Eviction Notice before you rip it off and storm into your apartment.

As you descend into your basement apartment, it’s just as cold and dark as you remember. A candle flickers on the center table in your makeshift living room, slightly illuminating the backpack and shoes that were thrown haphazardly. It’s the sight of these that make you smile, and as you put down the bags, you sprint into an adjoining room.

“Happy birthday eve!!” You scream at the top of your lungs, jumping excitedly onto the bed covered in purple comforters, avoiding the body of your daughter as you smile brightly. She only groans, beneath you, shaking herself awake from her after school nap. You strategically flop onto her, still in your Sal’s uniform.

You lock eyes with a shade of green you know too well, and you snuggle into her. “How does it feel Opal? Have you grown three inches? Have you grown a shoe size?” You gasp. “A BOOB size??”

“Mom!” She laughs, pulling away from you to bring a pillow over her head. “I’m not even sixteen yet. I feel the exact same way I did yesterday.”

“You’re going to be sixteen,” you mumble to yourself, staring up at your ceiling. Opal uncovers her head to plop it onto your shoulder. “My baby is going to be sixteen! It feels like just yesterday I was making you mac & cheese while we watched cartoons on the sofa.”

“That was yesterday Mom.”

“Oh how the time flies!”

You both laugh together, and silence falls over you briefly. You watch the sun go down from the limited rays of light from the “windows”. Your heart tightens. “I’m sorry baby bear,” you mumble rushing on before she could interrupt. “You deserve more than this, more than I’ve given you--”

“This is more than enough Mama--”

“No, it’s not. And I know that.” You sigh. “The moment you were born, I promised to always provide you things to the best of my ability. I promised to  protect you--and through it’s come in the form of a wild basement with 90% thrifted clothes--”

“I love my wild basement and thrifted clothes--”

“My point is,” you pause. “I am going to try so much more. Harder than I ever thought was possible, starting today.” You reach into your pocket book on the floor for a bulky parchment held together by brown paper and twine. 

“How much money did you fit into there?”

You roll your eyes, nudging her softly. “Don’t be a little shithead”--she smiles brightly--”I can’t celebrate your actual birthday with you tomorrow.  I have the opening shift at Sal’s before going over to Rick’s to clean up. So, I have three presents for you.”

You and Opal shift into a sitting position. “Present number one: I have ice cream cake waiting for you in the freezer.”

“Friendlys?!”

“You know it. Present number two: I got Rick to let us use his place to bake some apple pies. We’d have to make him some, but as soon as you feel ready--”

“Let’s go now.”

“Geez Opal,” you giggle. “As soon as you’re ready, not tonight, we can go. Present number three,” you breathe in deeply. “You know your father is a sore subject for me.”

Opal immediately sits up more, her eyes searching yours. “Mom?”

You nod in confirmation, tracing your fingers lightly over the parchment. “In here...are memories of what we had.” You swallow hard. “Now, I’ll give this to you, and you will have fourteen questions you can ask me with full disclosure.”

“Full honesty?”

“Full honesty. After that, I will fulfill two requests of yours that are in my jurisdiction. All to get you to your sweet sixteen.”

Opal doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Then, she surges forward to embrace you tightly. “Mama,” she says through tears.

“Baby bear,” you respond, your voice thick as well When you pull back, you wipe away her fallen tears while you both smile. You place the package in her lap and she excitedly tears through it.

What she finds is photos. Piles of photos and letters and more letters and photos that illustrate the three years you had with the love of your life. There’s even hints of Sam in there, and you  watch carefully as she picks up a photo of Dean where he’s smiling brightly at the camera while on a boat--a smile that mirrors the one your daughter frequently wears.

“Mama,” she breathes. “This...this is a photo of King Dean. Why do you have a photo of King Dean?”

“Is that one of your questions?”

“No!” She amends, rewinding. “My father...is King Dean.”

“That’s wild.”

She flicks your arm. “Mom! I mean this is--I’m a--how?!”

“Excuse me,” you scoff. “Your mother’s a catch. And for that, you have 13 questions left.”

“Ah!” She exclaims, searching for words. “How did you two meet?”

“I worked all over the palace. I was a floater, I went where I was needed and coincidentally he was always there. He kept talking to me, we became friends, and eventually...one thing led to another.”

“Did you love each other?”

You swallow thickly. “With everything in us. Or at least for me. I’d always look for ways to see him, and he’s forgo royal duties just for me. We even got married, but I think it’s some sort of treason so I don’t bring it up.”

Opal’s jaw drops briefly. “What was he like?”

“Your father…” You pause. “Your father was one of the most selfless, bravest, stubbornest assholes I’d ever met. He was fiercely protective of his family, and he would sell his whole being if it meant the people he cared about were safe.”

“So when you say all men…”

“I only partially include Dean. 10 questions.”

“Who’s this?” She points to a group photo of you, Dean, Sam & Jess.

“That is your Uncle Sam.” You shift slightly. “He was my best friend. We were as thick as thieves within the palace, always getting into trouble. You wouldn’t believe the situations we got into.”

“And her?” She points to Jess.

“That’s Jess. His ex-fiancee.” Your heart lurches into your throat. “She was also my best friend, but things...Things went wrong when she went on a charity visit to a Rehabilitation Center. A patient got ahold of a gun, and she was shot.” A tear escapes your eye. “By the time anyone got to her, it was too late. She died instantly.”

Opal reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers before squeezing tightly. You give her a close lipped smile. “Did Sam or Jess know about me?”

“Sam yes--we found out together actually. Jess passed away a year before it all happened.”

“Does my father know?”

Your heart beats incessantly against your ribcage, drowning in your ears. You’d prepared for this question, you could answer it. But even as you did, each word felt like liquid tar in your mouth. “The day I left, no.  I was too hurt to even seek him out…But when I had you, I thought he had a right to know just how much of a true gem had stemmed from our love. Every year, a week after your birthday, I sent him memories of us from the past year. Photos of you mostly. I never got a reply.”

Opal deflates, and your chest clenches. “Do you...do you see any of him in me?”

A smile flits to your mouth, “So much it hurts,” you let out a chuckle. “From your smile to your eyes to your goddamn apple pie, there’s no way I could forget him when he lives so much in you.”

“So why’d you leave?”

You can only stare at her, mouth paused in shock. You debate whether you should tell her the truth. 

“You said full honesty Mama.”

You close your eyes tightly, trying to catch even your faintest breath. “He um,” you clear your throat to dislodge the block forming. “He was too invested in running the country, and getting married to someone who wasn’t me--”

Opal leans into you, trying to offer some comfort. “Aww, Mama.

“The worst part is...is he didn’t tell me. I’d heard it from his m--from someone who was more than pleased to see us separated. I hadn’t heard from him for days, I’d just found out about you, and now here they were, threatening our lives if we didn’t get on our first plane out of there.”

“So you left without another word.”

You don’t answer.

“But--but maybe if you’d stayed, if he’d known about me we’d be together right now! You should’ve fought for him--”

“Fought for him?” You interrupted. “Opal, I had done nothing but fight for him. I would never leave his side and then--then he wasn’t the only person I had to fight for.”

“So who was it?”

“What?”

“Who made you leave? Who threatened us?”

“Opal--”

“Mom--”

“Don’t make me answer this.”

“You said full. Honesty.”

It takes everything in you to answer. “Your Grandmother.”

Opal lets out a breath and sits back heavily. “Well fuck.”

“I know,” you chuckle. 

You both don’t speak for a while. 

“Do you miss him?” She asks. 

“Everyday. Every time I think I’m over it, it comes back tenfold.”

“Does that mean you’d go back if you could?”

You but your lip. “I...I don’t know. That’s something I’d have to reevaluate if it ever came down to it.”

She nods thoughtfully.

“One more question baby bear.”

“...Which palace do they spend their most time in?”

You tilt your head, surprised at her last question. “That’s what you’re going to ask.”

“What can I say? I’m curious and a little bit of a daydreamer.”

Her last words break you a little more, so you tell her. She nods gratefully, and you lean forward to give her forehead a kiss. “Alright, do you want a slice of cake before we clonk out?”

Once again, to your surprise she shakes her head. “I’ll have some with you tomorrow, I think I might hit the bed now.”

“Okay.” You surrender, lifting yourself from the bed. “Good choice. Goodnight baby bear.”

“Goodnight Mama.”

You walk out of the room, and immediately Opal pulls out her phone to look up the palace. After some extensive digging and some slight dead ends, she finds a Redditt thread that swears by a palace address that’ll get her immediately to the inner circle. She quickly writes it down, and she finds a piece of paper and a few pencils.

With a deep breath, she starts to write.

It’s been about a week since your conversation with Opal, and work has been shitty. Nothing new, really, is all you can think as you wait patiently for Opal to meet you outside her school in your beat up car. Your vows to make things better seem to have fallen flat. Bills have started to drown you more than before, and you’ve recently been fired from Sal’s--you honestly don’t know how much longer you can keep your head above water.

Opal bounds to the car, humming and you give her an incredulous look. “Someone’s awfully chipper.”

“Well someone’s awfully a grouch,” she retorts.

“Well, we do live in a trash can,” you mumble, pulling away from the curb. “Baby bear, I gotta tell you something--”

“You got laid off.”

“I got--wait, how’d you know?”

“I heard you grumbling Wednesday night about Sal being a sleazeball who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

“Well--”

“And I found our eviction notice Mom.”

Blood rushes to your ears and you groan. “Look, I know this sounds bad, but we’ll be back on our feet before we know it, and this’ll all be behind us.”

“I know.”

You smile. “Thank you for your optimism baby bear.”

“Next time, I’ll charge you $25 for each optimistic phrase.”

You laugh heartily. “I’ll let you know when I can afford that.”

Pulling onto the side of your street, things are awfully quiet, though neither you nor Opal notice. Unlocking your apartment, you go down the steps only to freeze at the sight of apple green eyes you never thought you’d see again. 

“Dean?”

---------------------------

Look out for Part Three coming soon!

[arinlangdon]

reactions again. i have a lot to say and there’s nowhere better to dump it all than my online blog which i treat as a stream-of-consciousness public diary/liveblog of my love affair with this fictional character.

episode 7

ah yes, the memory headaches are back, sooner than ever. i hope this means FMC will be regaining her memories sooner in this route too. i think it would be more interesting to see her navigate a route while remembering everything about her life from before, for multiple reasons. after all, every route ended with that, so far, and we didn’t explore much about what that means. the route that centers on 2/3 of the triad seems like the perfect opportunity to do so.

so Arin used to have panic attacks, confirmed? precious anxiety baby

love the Humpty Dumpty bit

i love how they reference giving her the moon again. “I gave it to you, and it’ll ground you” and it’s a secret between her and them how they did it. augh, too romantic. (also, blush count for this set: 1)

“Yikes, do you even sleep?” i ask myself this every day, Jackie. does Arin ever use that plush-looking bed? a mystery for the ages. she’s right though, Arin is far too busy for their own good. they know everything except for the meaning of the word “relaxation”

i see we’re speaking in code now. i love Ever After Academy, the series where frogs are really head librarians and rabbits are actually cat-dog-rabbit-dragon-things, and men named Wolf aren’t actually werewolves

“Arin constantly skips meals due to being too busy” headcanon regretfully confirmed. Arin nO

“FMC is always trying weird new flavors of desserts” headcanon also confirmed lol. this girl, always so adventurous. but also, “better than getting the same thing every time”? it’s true, novelty is necessary. a woman after my own heart.

oh yes, now i can check “heart scene where you help Arin relax and have fun” off my wish list. right above that is “pluck the coffee right out of their hands, march them straight to bed and tuck them in, and maybe cuddle a bit”, and right below it is “plan a special date where you block off a full 24 hours of free time for Arin so you can spend the whole day together”. (Voltage, i have great ideas, hire me now)

Arin blush count: 2. oh look at these two shy idiots who can only dance around their feelings. surely they have to have some clue that their feelings are mutual? they keep trying to stop themselves from kissing the other. it’s driving me nuts. these fools! i push them together like a child pretending to make their dolls kiss.

episode 8

i’m sure they wrote in the explanation for the terrarium as it’s a holdover from Ezra’s route, but i think it’s funny to think that the siblings kept the terrarium all these years and Arin never knew about it. Arin ur not the only one with secrets

again, i do like how Arin keeps referencing the moon. moon rabbit. moon rabbit!!

oh here comes the angst from Arin keeping secrets from FMC for good reasons but not even being able to tell her the reasons. we all saw this coming from a mile away, but it still hurts. :(

wow i cannot wait to find out all of Arin’s secrets :D including their personal ones. (does that make me sound creepy? oops)

more dragon lore, and a debate between Nora and Lucas about dragons? yes please.

as an aside: i can’t believe it’s taken me this long to mention it, but i’m peeved at how the writing in this route keeps referring to Arin as “themselves” when they’re singular. “themself” may not be a familiar word, but it feels the most correct when referring to an individual. “herselves” and “himselves” isn’t a thing.

“Arin is a terrible singer” headcanon confirmed. Arin has a lovely voice but is a rubbish singer, i love it. keep the doors coming, Charlie, i’m on a roll today.

oh god, more embarrassing Arin stories, i am living for this. Arin blush count: 3, maybe 4. what exactly did they wind up on top of, FMC? do tell.

i cannot believe Arin has early 2000s boy band music on their phone. is this the real life? lmao this is probably the most surprising fact i’ve learned about them in this entire set, if not the whole route so far. Arin’s dignity: dropping like a stone. this is hilarious, i love it. god. seriously though, which song was it—

episode 9

can’t help but try to read ulterior motives into Jackie’s every move, and failing because we don’t know enough yet. trying to book a tutoring session with Arin, peeping into FMC’s house’s window, tipping off FMC about Darla’s scheming, being overly invested in the fairytale friends’ well-being? she’s the prime suspect for being the Big Bad of this route, and possibly the Queen of Hearts from the Alice duology, yet she hasn’t done anything outright villainous yet. she’s actually been fairly friendly and helpful. Jackie, what is your deal

Arin blush count: 5. wow careful Arin, your face will get stuck like that and you’ll pass out from lack of blood flow to the rest of your body

it’s still hard getting used to the knowledge that Arin is and was FMC’s best friend. it boggles my mind.

but also i want to imagine them as kiddos hanging out in her room and having fun. adorable. teen flashbacks when :’(

“you’re special to me” wow surefire arrow to my heart oof. Arin blush count: 6.

oh no, again with the holding back, you clods. you lovestruck idiots. you silly dumdums. being a 20-something and having feelings for your best friend is hard. it’s hard and nobody understands. :( when are they going to talk about this? when are they going to come out and say something?? normally FMC is much more straightforward than this, but i guess when it comes to a friendship you’ve cultivated for years, even the bravest people hesitate to rock the boat. but it’ll be all the more satisfying when they actually reach that point.

watching Arin put up the walls again, i can just hear them thinking “conceal, don’t feel”. “remove all magic, but leave the fun” ahahaha alright that’s enough

it’s nice to see FMC seeking out the company and advice of the fairytale trio in this route, especially Nora. those girls, always so close. she really is the only female friend FMC has, until Darla becomes her friend.

so much for hiding magic from MMC! cat’s out the bag sooner than i thought, and Arin’s not going to be happy about it. now they’re going to be pulling double duty trying to keep both siblings from a-sploding their heads by accident. poor Arin

did FMC explain the plan for making things right (whatever “things” are) and restoring their memories? or did she just leave them to wait it out indefinitely? oh no

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #475

(from two days ago, oops)

What is your favorite background noise? (Ex. Water dripping, people talking.) I really like a steady rain tapping on the windows. Do you like taking selfies? Why or why not? No, because I'm ugly. It's annoying because I've been wanting to take pics with Girt considering even as just friends literally none exist of us, but yeah. I fucking hate taking pictures of myself and it takes a billion and two tries to get a picture I deem "acceptable" anyway. Were you named after anyone? No. What was the last comic book you read? I don't and never have read comic books. What is your heritage? German, Irish, and Polish. Describe the worst friend you have ever befriended. All things considered, somehow my former best friend was the worst. She was homophobic, racist, extremely self-centered, drama-driven, excessively bossy, ungrateful... I will never be able to explain how our friendship ever worked. If you found the recipe for immortality, would you sell it or would you burn it? Burn it. With certainty. We just aren't meant to live forever. What is the most embarrassing, cringe-worthy thing you have ever done? 99% of my life has been Cringe. What is the worst thing someone could do on a date? Be distracted/not pay attention to the other, like by constantly using their phone. It's so rude. That would immediately make me lose interest in you. If you could turn one legal thing illegal, what would it be? I dunno. What is something you swore you would never do when you grew up, but you did anyway? I was absolutely going to college as a kid. Fast-forward to the future, I've dropped out three times and am going nowhere. Little me saw me as so, so much more successful. Do you actually iron your clothes? No. Unless it's a formal occasion. Do you rent or own your current home? We rent. Have you ever used cursive after school, aside from your signature? My handwriting is naturally mostly cursive. Do you have your groceries delivered or do you buy them yourself? We order our groceries for pick-up, so we have to go to the store, but not in. Do you have a gym membership? Sigh. I do, but Mom and I have really been neglecting going since my time with my personal trainer ran out... What’s your favorite computer game genre? Horror, of course. Do you have any exes your parents never liked? No. Have you ever been severely mentally ill? I am. What was the last thing you purchased from a small local business? I don't know. Have you ever used chewing tobacco? EW no, that shit grosses me out so much. If someone’s laughing, do you instantly think they’re laughing at you? Suuuure do. How would you react if your parents told you they were having another baby? Well, they're divorced, Mom cannot stand my dad, and she also had a complete hysterectomy when she had ovarian cancer, so like... Have you ever had a garage or yard sale before? How much did you make? Over the course of my life, we've had a few yard sales. I don't remember how much we made at any. Have you ever had to evacuate your home for any reason? No. Which mythological creature is your favorite? DRAGONS. I love dragons. Have you ever been to a butterfly garden before? No, but that sounds amazing. What's the biggest bird you've ever seen up close? Oh my god y'all, when I volunteered once at a wildlife rehab center, I was FEET away from some sort of falcon. Guys, you would not believe JUST how big birds of prey are. I was shocked and in total awe. Have you ever seen a double rainbow before? More than once. Were you ever afraid of the dark as a child? I don't THINK I was? What is the strangest thing you’ve been asked? Something inappropriate that really pissed me off. What was your favorite game as a child? I was obsessed with the original Spryo trilogy and would play all three obsessively. What is the darkest thing you have seen on the internet? I don't know, dark shit. Do you crack your knuckles, neck or toes constantly? No, but ugh Girt does that with his neck and it drives me insane alsdkjfaljdlfkwe. Are you constantly catching colds or other sicknesses? No, my immune system is a legend. Are you afraid of mice? No, they're precious. What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I go on vacations so irregularly that I can't really answer this. I've been on a vacation maybe twice in my entire life. Do you own more than one copy or edition of a book? No. If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? I don't like musicals. Will you willingly sing in front of other people besides your family? God no. Do you eat soup when you’re sick? No. I don't like soup. Who can never fail to make you laugh? Absolutely my boyfriend. He's the funniest person I know. Have you ever been on a tour bus? No. Do you prefer listening to things through headphones or speakers? Earplugs. Are you listening to music right now? No; I'm watching Gab play The Evil Within. Have you ever unbuttoned your ex’s pants? Just one of them, but we were together at the time. What are you planning on eating for dinner tonight if you haven’t already? Mom made pizza. What was the worst news you’ve heard this entire week? Girt's mother has Covid. He's vaccinated, but nevertheless, he's still getting a test done just to be safe, and also because if he's contracted it, I might have it. And that means my mother could get it, which just cannot happen, even if she's vaccinated, too. The poor guy is really freaking out about it, but ASTONISHINGLY, I'm not panicking yet. Girt's health has seemed fine, I'm fine, so... We'll just have to wait to see what his test says. Do you have a lot of trees around your house? What about buildings? No; yes. I hate living in the suburbs, it sucks here. Would you say either one of your parents are 'pack-rats?' No. Have you ever disowned anyone in your family? For what reasons? No. Has anyone ever called you a sociopath before? No. Do you have freckles? Do you like/dislike them? Not on my face, no. I have a few randomly on my body though. Would you ever consider getting dreadlocks? No. Have you downloaded extra fonts for your computer? Oh, plenty. Who is the latest great YouTuber you’ve discovered? The latest, uhhhh. I'd probably say John Wolfe as a truly "great" one considering I watch him regularly now. Do you read the Bible regularly? Yeah, no. All the Bible does is piss me off, frankly. Name three patriotic songs you like. I don't know about three, but I do shockingly like this one country song with a name I can't remember. All I know is it has "red, white, and blue" in the title. ... I think. Oh! There's "Deutschland" by Rammstein, even though it's not about my own country. Has it ever snowed on your birthday? Maybe at some point as a kid? Idr. Do you like the way your name is spelled? No, actually. I wish it was "Brittney." It's more true to the pronunciation. Do you believe in astrology? Not in the slightest, and while I really shouldn't care, like believe what you want, it's a genuine pet peeve of mine when others base their fucking lives around what positions some goddamn stars are in in an infinite universe. They make decisions based on bullshit being spat at them that might not be suitable. I know, it's stupid to care, but I can never seem to NOT roll my eyes when I see/hear people blaming their flaws and shit on this stuff. Are you one of those people who has like a hundred apps on their phone? No; I have very few. What’s the band that you love even though you know they’re awful? I can't help but love some Blood on the Dance Floor songs. :x Do you coo over other people’s babies? No, not really. Like I can acknowledge a cute picture and be like "awww," but it's nothing I lose my mind over at all. What is something that makes you very squeamish? VOMIT. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? The only high school friend of mine I'm still actively friends with/is still in my life is Girt, obviously. Like I have HS friends on Facebook that I still very much love and will react to what they post and sometimes comment, but we don't really talk-talk. Do you dye your hair regularly? No. :/ That's not something I can afford to do. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Do you know both of your biological parents? Which one do you prefer? I do, and I love them both. Do you store a lot of pictures you’ve taken that no one else has seen? I'm a wanna-be photographer, of course I do. If you had to name your kid after an American state, which would you choose? Probably "Dakota" for either gender. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have your normal dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. Do/did you doodle on your books at school? My notebooks and binders, ohhhh yes. Actual school textbooks, absolutely not. Who’d you last see in a tux? The groom and groomsmen of the last wedding I shot. Who’s the bravest person you know? Sara. Have you ever dated someone who was real sportsy? No.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

One In A Million - Chpt.6

Summary: Rose spends an idyllic holiday season with the guys before tragedy strikes, threatening to disrupt the timeline that Rose is trying so hard to keep on course.

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! We’re in full swing relationship mode now and I just adore the whole “stucky x reader” set up. Prepare yourself for sweet fluff and a pinch of angst before even sweeter fluff. Because ya’ll should know by now that’s my jam lol. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Six

Dating the guys turns out to be very similar to what you had been doing up until that point. They come over every other day, sometimes every day if your schedules align. In public Steve is your boyfriend and you happily chit chat with the girls at the office who all are curious about how smitten you are with the tiny, shy, artist. There’s always that ache in your chest though, when you want to share something about Bucky but can’t. He’s your boyfriend’s best friend and while you can tell the occasional story about the three of you hanging out, there’s so much you can’t share. The truth is, Bucky is actually the sweeter of the two. He’s desperately affectionate and tactile with you and Steve. While Steve will spend an afternoon drawing something in his sketch pad, Bucky isn’t happy unless he’s tangled around you like an octopus. You indulge him often, surprised by how easy it is to be close with him. Steve jokes that it’s nice having someone else for Bucky to throw himself on for a change. Not that Steve isn’t affectionate, but he’s more like a cat; coming to you in infrequent bursts when the mood strikes him. 

The holidays come and go quietly. Bucky and Steve head up to visit Bucky’s family for a few days and you stay home eagerly awaiting their return. You made them promise not to get anything but they both show up on your doorstep with gifts in hand when they get back. Steve gives you a sketch of the three of you sprawled out on the sofa together. It’s beautifully done and you promise to keep it on your bedside table. Bucky gives you a pair of the thick woolly socks you steal from him whenever you spend time at their place. They’re your favorite and you’re touched knowing he put a lot of thought into your gift. You grumble about them spending money on you but they ignore it, doing the same when they unwrap their packages. 

You had wanted to get them things they wouldn’t have bought for themselves. Steve has to stop halfway through thanking you for his new art supplies, choking up with emotion until he finally just pulls you in his arms for a hug that lasts for what feels like forever. Bucky actually is rendered speechless by his coat and gloves. He showers you with kisses when his brain finally catches up and you know he’s appreciative of the gift. He had gone without a new coat for a few years now, his getting more worn and threadbare each season. Bucky always claimed getting a warm coat for Steve was the priority, letting his own wait even when it really couldn’t. The gloves were likewise necessary. His hands were always chapped from the bitter cold and dampness down at the docks and they couldn’t afford good leather gloves that would keep his hands dry. 

The three of you spend the whole weekend in your apartment, snuggled safely away from the world. The guys are both gentlemen through and through, volunteering to take the sofa and the floor to sleep on. You know girls aren’t supposed to be so free in the ‘40s but you can’t possibly let them sleep uncomfortably when you have a bed big enough for the three of you to sleep in. Bucky caves first, pointing out that Steve has enough health problems without him sleeping badly and aggravating his back. You lead them both down the hall to your bed where they slip in next to you like they belong there. Bucky claims the middle, the prime cuddling spot, or so he claims, leaving you and Steve to trade amused grins over him. 

New Years Eve and Day are spent at their apartment, Steve claiming it’s only fair since they celebrated Christmas at yours. He cooks up a small hunk of corned beef, simmering it slowly all day with cabbage, potatoes, and other root vegetables he was able to get on sale. It’s quite different than the pork and sauerkraut you’re used to but you go along with their traditions without complaint. You sit around dreaming up plans for 1942 together, places to go and things to do. Bucky mentions the rink at Rockefeller center, everyone has been talking about it since it opened a few years ago and it’s supposed to be quite an experience. Steve agrees it would be a good time and tells Bucky they should start saving now so they can take you before spring comes. You shake your head, “Why wait?” you ask them, “It’s probably still decorated from Christmas. What better time to go than when it’s at it’s best? We can go tomorrow.”

Steve sighs, a tight smile on his face. “We’re just dreamin’, doll. As much as we want to take you, that place is for those fancy Manhattan folks. Last I heard, it was a dollar a skate and then we have the subway cost to get there and back.” 

“So I’ll pay for it, I don’t care. I want to take you two out and do something fun. Start the new year off right.” 

The pinched look on Steve’s face deepens, “We don’t need your charity…”

“My what!?” you bark at him. Bucky has inched back, wisely staying out of the escalating argument. He has enough sisters to know that Steve is not winning this one. 

“I know this isn’t the most traditional relationship but you gotta let us take care of you, doll. Like a man should.”

“Steven. Grant. Rogers.” you grit out in outrage, “If I want to take you out I damn well will. Don’t start with that antiquated, patriarchal, misogynistic bullshit!” 

Steve flushes, his cheeks burning brightly, and he stands up from his seat on the sofa to storm off to his bedroom where he slams the door behind him. 

Bucky shoots you a raised eyebrow, making sure he isn’t in trouble by association. You shake your head and sit back heavily, worried you ruined New Years Day. 

“He’ll be okay, just give him a minute to calm down.” Buck assures you, “You and I both know Stevie supports the women’s rights movement but it’s still a hard habit to break, wanting to take care of our best gal.” 

You climb into Bucky’s arms, wanting the comfort it brings you, “I’m sorry for ruining the holiday.”

“You didn’t ruin a thing. Just give him a few more minutes and then go talk to him. You have to understand, we didn’t grow up with money. I know you did so it’s not something you worry about, but that’s hard for us to adjust to.” 

You snuggle in against him, letting the minutes slip by until you can go to Steve and make things right. 

When you do finally go to him, Steve is staring out the window, brow furrowed under the weight of his thoughts. You apologize, and so does he. You both know your hearts were in the right place even if it doesn’t always come out that way. 

The next day you take your guys ice skating at Rockefeller Center just like you had wanted to. They insist on buying lunch and you let them, a quiet compromise to keep everyone happy. You skate for hours until your legs are weak and your fingertips and noses are frozen from the cold. Bucky fusses over both of you the whole way home, worried you’ll catch your death. It was the best day you can remember having in years, and one you’ll cherish the memory of forever. It was also the last good day you had together before it all went to hell. 

xxXxx

Bucky’s concern over Steve or you getting sick turns out to be legitimate. Two days after your trip Steve is coughing deep and rough, his asthmatic lungs not faring well against the illness he’s caught. By the third day he’s in bed with a fever that climbs faster than the medicine can work. Bucky can’t take the time off work, not if he wants to keep a roof over their heads, and so you call out from the SSR office, letting them know your boyfriend is not well. 

Seeing Steve suffering is a new level of hell. He’s sweaty from the fever, shaking from chills, and the cough in his chest could wake the dead. It’s amazing his body doesn’t just shatter apart from the force of it. You stay by his side, giving him sips of warm broth and tea when he can manage and reading to him from his favorite books. After a week he looks like a skeleton, shrunken on himself and devoid of the liveliness he normally radiates with. Bucky calls the doctor then, scared of the cost but more afraid of losing the love of his life. 

You can’t help but blame yourself. You knew Steve was prone to getting sick but you had pushed to go skating with them. It was selfish, so selfish, and now Steve was paying the price. Bucky tries to soothe your fears and guilt, reminding you Steve caught pneumonia just by stepping outside most years. You put on your bravest face and smile so Bucky will have one less thing to worry about, but it doesn’t alleviate your guilt in the least. There’s also the undercurrent of fear that you’ve messed up the timelines now and ruined everything. He has to pull through. He has to, so he can go be Captain America and save the world, you tell yourself.

Bucky won’t let you pay for the doctor who comes or the medicine he prescribes. You argue over it briefly but Bucky insists he saves for things like this and they’ll be fine. Steve comes out of it a few days later, the new medicine doing its job at last. 

“Hey,” Steve croaks, his voice rough from disuse. 

Your eyes fly up from the book you’re reading to meet bright blue eyes that are focusing on you for the first time in ten days. “Steve.” you squeak out through the tightness in your throat. You can’t contain your relief. “Oh honey, I thought we were gonna lose you.” you sob.

Steve reaches out with a painfully thin hand, “It’s gonna be okay.” 

“God, I was so scared.” 

“Come on, get in here with me if you can stand the smell.” he jokes weakly.

You carefully climb into bed with him, pulling him close until you’re lying flush against one another. You stroke the sweat sticky hair from his face, running your fingers over the sharp bones of his cheeks. Steve is too worn out to protest as you sprinkle kisses across his face. 

“If this is the treatment for whatever I had, sign me up for another round.” 

You frown at him fiercely. “Don’t even joke. I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, don’t you worry.” 

“I’ve done nothing else for ten days. I can’t lose you, I love you.” Tears are still falling from your eyes but you catch the change in Steve’s expression. You hadn’t even realized you said I love you out loud, having repeated it so often in your head while at his bedside that it feels natural now. 

“You love me, huh?” his eyes shine with amazement, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, I do.” you admit, not wanting to take it back now that the truth is out. 

“I love you too, Rose. Does Bucky know yet?”

“I haven’t said it to him yet. I will though, tonight.” 

“Make sure I’m there when you do. I’m sure he’ll react much better than when I said it to him the first time.” he huffs out a weak laugh and you reach back to get him a cup of tea from the side table. Steve sips slowly, letting his body adjust. “Do you wanna guess what that jerk said to me when I told him I was in love with him?” 

“I can’t even imagine.” 

“I was fifteen and he was sixteen. It was summer and we were flush after he got his first paycheck from helping sweep up at the docks where his dad worked. We spent the day at Coney Island eating hot dogs and riding the ferris wheel until they kicked us off. We were sitting down on the beach watching the waves as the moon came up, everyone else had left by then, and I realized it was the moment I’d been waiting for. I looked over at him and said ‘I love you, Buck’ to which the idiot said ‘love you too, pal.” easy as could be. So I told him ‘I’m in love with you.” and the great buffoon shoved at me and said “You do not!”. So then I shoved at him back and we ended up rolling around scrapping on the beach until finally, one of us let up. It wasn’t until we’d gotten home to my place that said he was in love with me too.” 

“That’s terrible and wonderful. I love it.” you tell him. 

“I never thought we’d find someone like you. I can’t believe I got this lucky twice.” 

You blush at his words, unable to believe his love for you could be even remotely close to his feelings for Bucky. 

“What time is it?” Steve asks squinting at the clock.

“Quarter after four.” you reach to the nightstand for his glasses so he can see for himself too.

“I hate to ask this of you, but could you help me to the bathroom? I could really use a shower.” 

“Honey, it’s okay. Bucky and I have been taking turns caring for you so it’s no big deal.” 

“Great. Not exactly the first impression I’d like to leave when you see me naked the first time.” 

“Hey, don’t be like that.” you scold him as you let him support himself on you to stand, “If you think for one minute I’m going to see something I don’t like when I look at you, you’re crazy.” 

Steve grumbles but decides he wants to be clean more than he wants to act tough. You half help, half carry Steve into the bathtub, setting him down carefully inside it while you get the water nice and warm. He tries to wash himself but his arms are shaking after a minute and you take over washing his hair for him, getting it nice and clean for the first time in over a week. The bath exhausts Steve and he naps while you make dinner, barely keeping his eyes open to dry off.

Bucky is ecstatic when you tell him Steve was awake and talking earlier. He barely stops to give you a kiss before he’s barging into the bedroom to see Steve. You join them a little while later, eating dinner in bed on trays so that Steve can rest but still be included. He’s sleeping again before he even finishes his soup, his tray whisked away to let him rest peacefully between you and Bucky. You talk quietly over him, catching up on your days and sharing in your relief that he’s finally improved. 

“Thank you for helping me care for him. It got really bad this time. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” Bucky says again, grateful for all your help over the past week.

“It was no problem. I love him, of course I wanted to take care of him when he’s sick.”

Bucky looks over, surprised. “You love him, huh?”

“I do.” 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s easy to love.” Bucky looks down at Steve with such sweetness it’s hard for you not to jump over Steve and kiss him.

“Hey Buck.” you catch his attention again.

“Hmm?” he finally looks over at you.

“I love you too.” 

Bucky smiles wide and warm like the sun. “You do, huh?”

“Yep.” you chew on your lip, waiting for his next move.

“It’s a good thing then. ‘Cause I love you too.” Bucky gets up, coming around to your side of the bed where he can pull you up into his arms. 

“I love you.” you whisper between kisses.

“I love you, so much doll.” he replies, burying his face into the curve of your neck. 

“Ah shit. Steve wanted to be awake for that.” you groan.

“What? Why?” Bucky asks with a chuckle.

“He wanted to make sure you didn’t shove me after I said it.” 

“Oh no, he told you the story!” Bucky is cringing, embarrassed by the memory. 

“It’s sweet.” you assure him. 

Bucky starts trailing kisses up your throat again and you sink into his embrace, letting yourself enjoy the contact after a week of tense worry. 

Steve really will be okay, you’re sure of that now. The timeline is intact despite all of your involvement in their lives and you just have to get through the next four months without disrupting anything else. Though how you are going to walk away from the two of them is getting more and more complicated.

Tag list! @wolfarrowepz​

[wiseabsol]

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? 6. Favorite character you’ve written? 14. What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?) 15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing? 19. How do you cope with writer’s block? 24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? 33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? 34. Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions?

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? 

My favorite part is when you make discoveries about your world and your characters as you write the story down, and when you write something and go, “Oh, there we go, there’s the solution to this problem that was going to come up later.” For example, I recently had an evil mentor toying with a magical item while giving a lecture to his pupils. The magical item was mundane--essentially, just putty that you could mold into whatever shape you wanted, then solidify, then switch back to putty to reshape. And as I was writing that down, I went, “Oh, THAT’S what my protagonist is going to knock him out with down the line. That’s way better than her using a lamp. Excellent.” 

My least favorite part about writing is getting started. Once I’ve cleared the hurtle of the blank page, writing becomes much easier and more exciting. But getting myself to start has become much harder since I developed my editor/critic’s brain.  

6. Favorite character you’ve written? 

In one of the text-based rps I’m writing with my best friend, I’m playing a shapeshifter named Sparrow, who is charming, funny, flirty, politically-savvy, and super vain about his appearance (think a courtesan-type character). He also has one of the most gut-wrenching backstories of any character I’ve ever written, and is struggling with triggers from that backstory. His romance with my best friend’s character is also my favorite romance that I’ve written with her, and it came as a surprise to both of us, since we were just testing out the characters at the time.   

14. What does it take for you to be ready to write a book? (i.e. do you research? outline? make a playlist or pinterest board? wing it?) 

I do a lot of brainstorming and outlining, though my outlines aren’t plot-related ones so much as very detailed character summaries. I’ve honestly been struggling with plot lately, but I’ve been doing better character work, so I’m winging it more now. While I usually have a general idea of how the story goes, the actual writing of it clarifies the details and makes changes to my plans. On the bright side, the results are less stilted than my old work, since they’re not chained to plot outlines, but stem from the characters more organically.  

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing?

I’ve started telling myself, “Fuck it, let it be messy, I’ll fix it later.” Letting go of perfectionism is hard for me, but doing so has been helping.   

19. How do you cope with writer’s block? 

Honestly, the best way to cope with writer’s block is to just try something and see if it sticks, or leave yourself a note and skip ahead in the story to something you want to write. However, as I mentioned in an earlier ask, I haven’t been able to do much writing lately. And that’s hard, because I feel guilty for not writing, and I know if I just do it, I’ll feel better. Which is a bad mindframe to be in, especially because this year has been awful. I’ve been telling other writers to be gentle on themselves, because it’s hard to be creative when you’re stressed, but I struggle to take my own advice. So right now, I’m trying to give myself permission not to write, and to instead focus on other things. Editing. Reading. Playing videogames. Baking. Doing house/yardwork. Something to still ticks things off of my to do list, but also things that I can look at and see, “Yes, you did get something done.” It’s not a perfect system, and it does fall into the productivity trap, but it’s what I’m trying. When the stress passes, maybe then I can dive back into writing.  

24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? 

I think it was when I was applying for undergraduate college. I wrote in my application essay that I wanted to write stories that would show my readers that things can get better for them. I was writing as a hobby before then, but I think that’s when I decided that yeah, I wanted making stories to be a part of my future, and I wanted to write stories that I could publish someday. 

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? 

Mostly I end up rewriting the chapter or story in question. Draft one is for realizing and getting down the idea of the thing. Draft two is refining it to that thing and losing all of the flab that the story doesn’t need. Often I have another file on the side where I paste in what I’ve cut out, in case I change my mind and want to add it back in later, or in case I can use it in another project. I also save the original messy draft and do the cutting in a copied file. That way, I can reassure myself that the original still exists for me, and I can reread it when I’m feeling self-indulgent, but I’m also only giving the best version to my readers.  

34. Unpopular writing thoughts/opinions?

-- Writing every day is a good idea, and does work well for the writing process, but it’s an unrealistic standard to hold yourself to, especially if you have a day job, kids, and other adult responsibilities. Don’t feel guilty if you can’t write every day. The guilt is just going to make you freeze up instead of returning to the work. Be gentle with your expectations for yourself.  

-- If you’re including triggering or sensitive subjects in your work, and are planning to share that work with others (and ESPECIALLY if you’re planning to profit from that work), you should be doing your research about those subjects, portraying them as accurately as possible, and asking yourself if your story really needs that content to work. It is also a good idea to employ sensitivity screeners for that content, especially if you’re writing from a place of privilege and/or don’t have personal experience with the issues that you’re depicting.

-- Once the work is out there, no one has the right to ban it. They can be critical of it, yes. But not ban it.  

-- Writers of privilege must include diversity within their work, even if they’re scared of getting their depictions of people from other genders, races, classes, religions, and so on wrong. And they will get it wrong. When that happens, just apologize and try to do better in the future. But staying in your lane is a bad idea, for three reasons: 1.) You should be striving to have empathy for others, and you can’t do that if you’re only writing about people who are similar to you. 2.) Writers of privilege have an easier time getting their work published, and so should be trying to push the market/publishing industry into a more diverse direction. And 3.) You should be showing readers of privilege that the world is a diverse one, rather than catering to their narrow worldview.

-- Getting defensive when someone is critical of your work is perfectly natural, but it’s also dumb. It’s so, so dumb. You have made a product, and no product made by human hands is perfect, and every writer has blind spots. So when someone is critical of your work, try to keep this in mind: this is not an attack on you. Let yourself feel the hurt in private, and eat lots of ice cream, and when you’re feeling better, look at the criticism and ask yourself: What led the reader to this conclusion? How can I fix it? What can I learn from this? This is assuming that the critic is working with you in good faith, by the way; sometimes they’re completely off of the mark, or are upset because you didn’t give them the story that they wanted. But if someone is going, “Hey, this is a little racist/sexist/homophobic/ableist/etc.,” sit up and listen. And for the love of god, don’t fight them over it. You’ll make yourself look like an ass. 

-- Don’t workshop your story too early. Try to get a full draft down before you submit something for consideration. For one thing, you’re still figuring out what your story actually is. For another, writing workshops, while useful, have a tendency to pull your work to the middle / make it more acceptable to a general audience. Sometimes this will soften and even kill your bravest writing. Instead, use writing workshops as an opportunity to find writers who understand the themes you’re aiming for and the subjects that you’re discussing. Their input will be what you need.  

-- With the current laws about copyright infringement, getting paid for your fanfic is a bad idea. If you want that to change, then fight to make the laws more lenient. As if it, you’re risking screwing over other fanfic writers by doing that. Does that suck? Yeah. But that’s also the reality we live in right now, and you’re not going to have a good time if a corporation like Disney slams you with lawsuits.

-- Genres like fantasy, science fiction, horror, romance/erotica, and murder mysteries are real literature. Saying they’re not has its roots in classism. 

-- There is no such thing as apolitical writing. 

-- Poets are underrated. Support them. Most of the time, they’re doing braver and more socially-important work than you are, and they’re doing it concisely, too.     

-- Your first draft is going to suck. This is a good thing. You learn a lot more from bad prose than from good prose, more often than not. 

-- Having your work rejected by publishers really is nothing personal. Sometimes it just wasn’t a good fit for them at that moment in time. If they’re interested in seeing more from you in the future, though, keep them on your list and send them something else during their next screening period. They don’t say that unless they mean it.         

[wetookanoath]

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen it, but in the first postmortem the boys do, Ryan says that Shane once told him that he [Shane] wants his last words to be “Keep Rolling.” Do you think you could write a fic based on that? I feel like your writing would be perfect for that style fic. If you don’t want to, I understand. I love you ❤️❤️

Originally, this was two fics. One was the answer to this prompt that I started to write almost TWO years ago that then morphed into a parallel story to Like You Want To Be Loved from Ryan’s POV, and the other was a birthday gift for @mercury-skies (I’m so sorry I missed the date!), but then I realized both were pretty similar and said, “fuck it, canon divergence”. Which… is what this is, lol. In this Canon Divergence kinda AU thing, Shane has had Obi since he moved to LA.

Dear Soph, I hope you like this little thingy. I’m so sorry it took so long, I hope your birthday was as wonderful as you. I love you, you are one of the reasons I’m in this fandom still, and one of my best friends. I hope to have you in my life for a thousand years.

PS: It’s not a parallel story to LYWTBL.

(Read on AO3)

I’ll Stick With You, Baby, For A Thousand Years

If you asked Ryan, it all started in the Sallie House.

He had known Shane for almost two years before he asked him to be part of Unsolved. There was a certain amount of nervousness when he did so, and a sweet and almost shy smile on Shane’s face when he said yes without looking at him, pretending to not be excited. 

Ryan knew then it had been a good idea.

In that evil house, he confirmed this thought when he had ran out of the place with his blood rushing through his veins in hot waves, heart pounding crazy in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything but the million ways his brain had told him the demon inside the house was going to kill him if he kept messing with it in there, Shane’s juvenile laugh so far away now that Ryan wondered if he had imagined it.

At first, he also thought he was imagining the man coming out of the house in such a calm manner, it made Ryan feel even more uneasy. But his friend had approached him, asked if he was okay, and when he hadn’t gotten an answer, waited until Ryan was ready to look up at him a few seconds later.

“We have to get back inside, Ryan,” he had said and Ryan had shook his head no, no, no, never. “Look, I know you’re scared but this is our job now, man. We committed to this, we are gonna finish this together.”

“I don’t want to die…” he murmured. Shane chuckled but it didn’t really sound offensive to his ears. In a way, it made him feel a bit better that the man found all this so funny.

Shane was smiling, that was the trick that did it. He smiled at Ryan, bright and kind, finding Ryan’s fear endearing somehow and not shameful. His hands were on Ryan’s shoulders in a heartbeat, his face neutral as he spoke again.

“You are not gonna die, I won’t let that happen. None of us will.” He said. “You are already the bravest of us by deciding to walk in there earlier today, knowing that you believe in whatever could be there.”

“Are you admitting there’s a demon in the house?”

“I’m admitting nothing but the only truth we know for sure: you believe in it, it scares you, and yet you set foot there like a boss.” He smiled again, squeezing Ryan’s right shoulder. “In my book, you’ve already won against that bitch little girl.”

At the time, it had made him laugh. Ryan swallowed and nodded, readying himself to get back into the house when Shane’s hands cradled his face in his big hands. His heart stopped beating and for a second, Ryan wished Shane would kiss him.

The man looked at his face instead, as if searching for something Ryan wasn’t sure was in him. After a few seconds, he smirked.

“Let’s get back in there, little guy.” It was the first time he had called him that and it made Ryan want to listen to him forever. “Let’s finish this job.”

They had gone in there together, Shane behind him, ready to push him into the place if necessary but it wasn’t. Instead, Ryan had tried his best to not piss his pants and let Shane keep laughing in the face of danger like if he wasn’t scared for the soul of his friend.

Shane made things different, Ryan noticed, in a way he hasn’t witnessed before. 

Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t believe that made him brave in Ryan’s eyes, screaming and laughing at empty spaces Ryan thought were filled with evil they couldn’t see. But Shane looked back at him, the tender smile of earlier and Mexico City, and San Jose, and that afternoon at work when he had popped the question, so sweet on his lips, making his face kinder and Ryan had to blink back unknown tears.

“You really are scared, aren’t you?” Shane asked him later as they laid down on the floor.

He had gotten his sleeping bag closer to Shane and the man had laughed, allowing him this as he was allowing him so much lately. Ryan said nothing to his question, thinking it unnecessary when it was so obvious what was happening to him.

Many shadows were taking strange shapes, windows seemed to get darker, and Shane came into view still with all the lights off. Ryan looked at him as the man got closer to Ryan and laid on his side, looking at him.

“Give me,” he said. Ryan frowned and realized he was offering him his hand. Shane was asking for his. “Give me that hand.”

Hesitant, Ryan moved his hand until it was on Shane’s. The man grabbed it like if he was trying to warm it up, keeping it against his in a firm grip without interlocking their fingers or doing anything else, just holding it. Shane sighed, licking between his lips before squeezing Ryan’s hand.

“Nothing you think may be out there is real.” He murmured, Ryan was already aware this was something they were getting cut for the video. “Nothing out there can hurt you, I promise you that.”

“You can’t do that.”

The man smiled. “Don’t contradict me, Bergara, never underestimate my competitiveness.”

Ryan couldn’t help but giggle at that, both of them were certainly assholes when it came to competing against others and against each other. In a way, it was one of the first things that attracted him to Shane, the way he seemed to encourage him into competing with him to be the best new thing in the office. It was insufferable and oddly motivational.

“I’ll keep you safe and alive just so I can say I told you so.”

“I bet you would.”

Shane’s eyes closed, he was still smiling as sleepiness started to call him back into its arms. Ryan swallowed as he thought of leaving again. But as if sensing his thought, Shane squeezed his hand.

“You are safe with me, angel.”

Somehow, it gave him the courage to stay until past the witching hour. Shane had laughed at his inability to stay for the rest of the night but had put his hand on his thigh as they drove away from the house, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, and it rang in Ryan’s ears for the rest of the night. He was unable to sleep, even in the comfort of their hotel room.

He thought there, as he tossed around the mattress and the sheets, that Shane was some kind of handsome he hadn’t noticed before. He was cute, always has been. Funny and caring, protective in a way.

And he also had a girlfriend.

**

“I got one.” Shane said.

“Shoot!”

“What post-apocalyptic world is the most interesting you’ve seen in a movie?”

Ryan took a deep breath, thinking of his answer as he drove. They were alone in the car, the rest of the crew had taken their own rental with the excuse of wanting to sleep, “the truth is that you two never shut up”, Mark had told them. And Ryan was actually kind of be grateful for it. He enjoyed these 20 Questions sessions more than he cared to admit.

“Maybe Mad Max? I mean, it would be bananas to live in that!” he answered, and Shane chuckled at it. “Ugh, you’re going to say something pretentious like The Matrix or Terminator.”

“What’s pretentious about Terminator?!” Shane kept laughing, his eyebrows high and face surprised.

They laughed together a few more seconds before Shane answered. “My answer is kind of obscure, actually.”

“Holy shit.”

“But that’s not how 20 Questions goes, Ryan.”

“Shit, I don’t give a fuck.” He frowned, then rolled his eyes when he saw Shane looking at him with that shitty grin of his. “Okay then, same question for you.”

There was a shift in the air and Ryan wasn’t sure what to make of it, but Shane was suddenly serious, looking to the road outside the window.

“Children of Men.”

An obscure future for sure. 

“Why?”

Shane smiled at him. “It’s my turn.”

“Oh, come on!”

The man giggled but cleared his throat before answering. “I think it’s something not so far away or impossible.” He said. “And I found it interesting, the way people reacted around the girl and her miraculous child.” Shane licked his lips and swallowed. “Hopeless world suddenly has hope in the form of a young lady and a baby…”

“I always thought it was kind of like the Jesus tale,” Ryan commented. “Mary was just a random young kid having the son of God, the hope that was promised.”

“Oh yeah, like obvious Christian imagery aside, it’s very interesting.”

Ryan sighed, the silence that followed felt oddly charged but none dared to break it. It felt sacred too, like if they had just shared something important and not just an opinion on a movie’s portrayal of the world after its end. 

“You were raised Christian, right?” Shane asked suddenly.

“Catholic,” he murmured. “Even went to a Catholic school, and Grandma Bergara made sure to remind me every Sunday why I shouldn’t wake up early that day. Church ain’t that fun.”

Shane said nothing for a few seconds, then asked: “You think believing in ghost has something to do with your faith?”

Ryan frowned, thinking about his answer again. It was his turn to ask, but Shane’s question tickled in his brain as he thought over his family, the exchange in cultures, all that spiritualism he had absorbed over the years.

He had been a non-believer of the supernatural in his early teens, but had faith. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was actually something he grew up to have or was something he had picked from his parents. Regardless, he wasn’t a religious person but he had faith.

“Maybe,” he finally said. “I have faith there’s something else after death. Sometimes souls don’t pass on and stay here.”

“What about demons and all that, Ryan?”

“Well…” His hands were sweating on the steering wheel, Ryan swallowed before answering again. “If there’s good, there’s evil. One can’t exist without the other.” He repeated what his grandmother once told him. “Why are you asking me this?”

Shane looked at him as if he had been caught doing something wrong. His eyes were wide open and his eyebrows were up again. He recovered soon, clearing his throat and sitting straighter on his seat.

“Well, I don’t believe in any of that. I get curious.”

Ryan looked at him for a few seconds, then back at the road.

“So you’re saying, you don’t have faith?” Ryan asked, Shane blinked. “I mean, not like a religion or something. But, just faith that there may be more.”

“No, I guess I don’t,” he murmured.

There were a million other things Ryan wanted to ask him. Even after so many years, he still had so many questions for the man, and he hoped the roads never ended for them, for their little show to keep giving them excuses to leave town and experience all this together.

In that moment, though, Ryan changed the subject by keeping their previous game with more questions about movies and simpler, sillier things.

Shane’s words still echoed in his head as they kept going and the night approached with their arrival to the hotel. Tomorrow they would be working, but tonight they still had a few minutes to spare with each other, laying together on the same bed of their double room.

“I would really like to believe in something, you know?” Shane said, one arm over his forehead as he looked at the ceiling. “Wrap myself into it, find something beyond what is said and done.”

“Why?”

There was no answer for him, just Shane’s eyes piercing Ryan’s soul as he seemed to be looking for something on his face again. It was then that his free hand moved, fingers holding Ryan’s chin up as Shane kept watching.

“Because it’s terrifying to live in a world so still!” he suddenly said with enough goofiness to distract anyone from the grey shadow that had appeared over him. Ryan blinked a couple of times. “If there’s something else aside from the things we know, well, I gotta know too! Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Yeah.” Ryan answered after a pause. “I guess it would.”

The silence that followed made him think of Shane these past months they’ve spent together, travelling for their show and how it had become theirs after it had been his for what felt like an eternity. Make no mistake; Brent had been a good host, one of his best friends still. But the man was never as present as Shane seemed to be now, so involved and worried for it to be as perfect as possible.

Shane, the perfectionist. Going behind Ryan to edit better, giving him so many great ideas that Ryan didn’t know how else to credit him other than to name him co-parent of this little project that was becoming popular. He wondered for a moment where would Unsolved take them, if it was going to become a monster or an angel.

“I really wanna see a ghost, Ryan.” Shane said suddenly, making him look back to find Shane sitting on the bed. “You better prove me wrong.”

It felt like a promise.

“Oh, you’ll eat your words, sir,” he said, and Shane smiled at him. “You’re gonna kiss my ass soon, we are so gonna get something one of these days.”

They laughed together; it seemed like they were always laughing together about the same shit. Their laughter was bright and obscure, and sometimes it made other people wonder what was it. Maybe that was their own ghost, the thing only they could see.

Shane’s fingers caressed the tip of Ryan’s nose out of nowhere, and he blinked as he saw him wink and stand from the bed, walking towards the bathroom without saying any other words.

He had never seen him act this way with anyone else but his girlfriend. Ryan wondered if he was this open with his closer friends, if Ryan could consider himself one of them now. 

Back then, he wondered so many things that it felt like a never ending game of 20 Questions.

**

When Ryan first admitted he was in love, Shane was single and drunk in New Orleans.

Each city they visited fell into their laps in a way he had never experienced before, like each place had been waiting for them. Ryan knew it was in part because they cheated shamelessly and chose places were they could visit other touristy ends, have a good dinner with the crew, and sleep well when they weren’t covered in webs and dust.

But New Orleans had magic in the air, on its people, and around each corner.

They had partied with their crew and for the first time, Ryan felt like they were going to be friends forever. He had known these people for years now, but that night, when that they cheered together and promised each other another year of spooks and bad mornings, he just knew. 

Warm beer had never tasted so good.

By the time they made it to their room, they were drowned in laughter, trying to carry each other to their respective beds. They ended laying together on Shane’s, laughing at their inability to stand and walk, drunk out of their minds with Ryan pretended touching Shane wasn’t making him combust on the spot.

He remembered little bisexual Ryan watching his crush play football in high school, how he thought Rod had looked so good under the sun and he would never like anyone else ever. Not the way he had liked Rodrigo that summer when he was fourteen. Time made him braver, steps were given, confessions were made, hearts were broken, and time kept going by.

Now he was looking at Shane, kind and brilliant Shane, who was always smiling and looking out for him. Who was very available now, bathed in neon blue light with his cheeks and nose red, eyes closed before they finally opened and looked at Ryan.

Ryan wished he could take a picture of this. The way Shane was looking at him like there wasn’t anywhere else in the world he wanted to be and no one else in his life he wanted to be with. It made his heart suddenly turn, find a home in his crush that was no longer just a crush.

It couldn’t be. Not when Ryan was sure he would bare himself to this man and reveal his deepest secrets if he wanted, when he would sacrifice everything in exchange for just having Shane’s happiness and he would be grateful. Just like that, he blinked tears away, and he was in love.

His lips parted, but no words were spoken. Shane just looked at him, into his eyes, for what felt like forever, until his eyes started to move around his face as he so often did. Ryan licked his lips and Shane’s eyes were on them immediately.

“I wanna kiss you, angel.”

“Uh, okay.”

“I won’t,” he said. Ryan frowned and felt his heart tense. “We’re drunk, I don’t want to spoil our first kiss like that.”

“Oh.” And just like that, his heart was beating fast. Happy. “I wouldn’t mind…”

“I would. Big time.” He smiled. “It has to be perfect, Ry.” Shane said, putting one hand on Ryan’s cheek. “Like you.”

He wanted to cry, instead he chuckled and watched as Shane fell asleep with his hand on his face. He wasn’t sure when he had succumbed to dreams, but he woke up to Shane gone, from the bed and their room, and the sun burning his eyes like tears.

**

“Here’s a new one.” Ryan said as they drove to the theater. “Ideally speaking…”

“Mhm.” Shane exclaimed, listening.

“How would you like to die?”

“Ugh, getting dark already and we haven’t even eat anything,” the man said, making both of them laugh as he waited for an answer. “I guess asleep, right? We all want that, the less trouble the better.”

“Just asleep?”

“Sure.”

“No old age? Just any time is fine, laid down on the bed and pggghhh– dead.”

“What the fuck was that? Pgggh?” Shane laughed, Ryan smiled as he finally saw the mall building and the slightly small line to enter the parking lot. “Oh man, you already know the answer. Old age is fine, though I’ve been feeling fifty since I was fifteen.”

The car filled with laughs, and they stayed in comfortable silence while Ryan looked around the lot to park. He sighed, reminded himself to be cool, he didn’t need to scare off Shane already on their first non-official date. He wanted to ask him if this movie thing was in fact a date, or if he had dreamed what happened in New Orleans.

But ever since that night, Shane had been especially attentive with him. And Ryan was no liar, he well loved the coffee in the morning, the good night texts, Shane’s jacket around his shoulders when they walked around like a pair of old men in the afternoon. 

Yet, he didn’t have the guts or the will to deal with the answer being no. Ryan reminded silent.

“My turn,” Shane said when Ryan finally parked, he nodded and waited for the question. “What would you like your last words to be?”

“Oh boy.” His eyebrows moved on its own, already thinking of the answer for such a hard question.

“‘Oh boy’?” Shane’s own eyebrows went high, Ryan shook his head and the man laughed. “What? Are you going to be, like, killed by aliens or something?”

“Why aliens? You are watching The X Files again, don’t you?” he frowned, killing the engine as he looked at Shane, whose eyes had closed and become moons as he giggled like a child. “Fuck, I should have never told you about my crush on Mulder.”

“You like spooky boy!” 

“Oh my god, I’m on ninth grade again…”

“I was totally your type in ninth grade, though. A giant nerd.” He answered, the comment made Ryan’s heart beat faster.

“Jesus, that would be like– illegal, you know?” He reminded him. “I was a tiny child, you were a teen and a half!��

“Oh!” Shane seemed to remember. “Holy shit, I’m older!” His hand went to his mouth, he shook his head no and looked at him. “Christ, I’m glad we met as adults. Jesus.”

Ryan smiled at him and sighed before going back to the actual subject they were discussing previous to their latest branch in the conversation. “I think… I don’t know, man. I try not to think of me dying, it gives me… anxiety and stuff.”

“Uh, anxiety and stuff.” Shane repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I think I will have to think about this one for a while and then I’ll get back to you.”

Shane smiled at him. He had unfasted the safety belt but hadn’t made any move to get out of the car. They still had a few minutes to spare, so Ryan said nothing and waited.

“I would like my last words to be something positive,” Shane said, and Ryan nodded, trying not to think of a world were Shane wasn’t there. “‘Keep going.’ Something like that.”

Ryan smiled again, his heart was feeling trapped inside his chest and he didn’t like the sensation. There were walls around him, caging him in the deep, dark and cold sea. If he kept thinking about it, about Shane dying, he would–

“I guess leaving this world on a positive note would be good,” Ryan said, hoping Shane wouldn’t notice the anxiety this small conversation had already given him. “Let’s go, big guy. I want to buy us the biggest popcorn they allow us to.”

Shane chuckled, opening his door and following him into the darkness of the parking lot, the noise of the city and the people walking around in their own private worlds. They walked side by side, the silence a bit forced. Ryan licked his lips, thinking of small conversation before he felt warm fingers on his.

Looking down at his hand, he saw Shane’s own taking it like he did a year ago in Kansas. Back then, he hadn’t interlocked their fingers as he was doing now, and it made Ryan look up at him to find him staring nervously at nothing in particular, front and nowhere else.

Ryan smiled, giving Shane’s hand a gentle squeeze. The silence felt warm even when his friend was too tall to hold hands like normal people do.

Normal was something he didn’t dare to be ever since he left college. It wasn’t what Ryan was, he guessed. And with Shane, he was just real.

**

He wasn’t sure when one date became many. Ryan wasn’t about to question it, though, he sure as hell was more than happy to keep going with Shane everywhere. 

The man took his hand, let him put an arm around his waist or interlock his arm to Shane’s while walking, and it all felt natural, like if they had been destined to be like this since before they met.

When he got that sappy, Ryan knew he needed to kiss Shane soon and call him his boyfriend sooner. Time had been nice to them and it was time for that payoff he had been waiting since New Orleans earlier that year.

**

Little after they started to film season 3 of Supernatural, things changed.

The rain had caught them on their way to Shane’s apartment building after they had found parking on the side. 

After the movies, they had gone to dinner and argued about Shane paying more than Ryan had on the cinema earlier the day. Ryan had lost the argument for the time being, but it didn’t matter if it let him see Shane smile, make him look all smug and charming. 

When they entered the lobby, the desk guy gave them a once over and sighed, making them laugh again before Ryan put on his tiptoes and ruffled Shane’s hair, drops going in all directions and making things worse. But the man smiled at him, sweet and open, looking so young it only made Ryan wish they could have this forever, that he could enjoy this man as he was for the longest time.

He kept thinking of a life like this, in which they got together to the same place after a long day of work. Where they could leave their shoes behind the fridge to dry them and their wet clothes spread around the bathroom to then wear comfy pants and old t-shirts, share a cozy bed that smelled of Shane and his chocolate shampoo.

“I can take the cou–”

“Nope,” Shane told him, pushing him in the direction of his bedroom. 

He also had a spare room. None of them mentioned it either.

Shane’s room was a world of its own. Like the rest of his apartment, it had movie posters here and there, books and toys, collection worthy items of shows and films he loved, and his silent cat Obi in the corner, hidden on his Amazon box where Ryan couldn’t reach him.

“He’ll come along, don’t worry,” Shane told him, patting the space at his side on the bed. “I’m not gonna bite you, Ry.”

“Jesus.” Ryan laughed, feeling his cheeks warmth. Once on the bed, he saw Obi peek out the box to watch them settle under the sheets together. “He’s watching us…”

“He’ll come later and sleep over my head. Maybe yours!”

“Uh…” Ryan blinked, hoping the shot he got for his allergies last week worked as it should. “Let’s hope you don’t have to drive me to the hospital in the middle of the night.”

“I can take him out, it’s no problem,” Shane assured him, frowning at the thought of Ryan’s allergies reacting bad around him. 

Ryan smiled at him. “It’s okay,” he said. “First, I got that damn shot and it better work because it actually hurt like a motherfucker. Two, it’s been years since I last reacted badly to being exposed to cat hair, so I don’t think it will be bad. If so, just a few sneezes. I can take those sneezes.”

“Are you sure?” Shane asked, still very serious, and so very close to Ryan’s face.

“Yeah. This is his house, I’m the visitor,” he answered, giving the same thought he always has regarding his dogs. Shane smiled at him this time, taking his chin with his fingers. 

“Shane?”

“You’ll be a good stepfather,” he murmured, Ryan swallowed visibly but only nodded. Shane’s fingers moved, his palm now over Ryan’s cheek and he leaned into it, sharing a smile with Shane. “I got it now.”

“What?”

“‘Keep rolling.’” he said. Ryan frowned and moved his head a little, trying to understand what the man was talking about. “What I would like my last words to be.”

“Oh.”

“No, hear me out.” He laid down, making Ryan lay at his side. His hand was still on his face, fingers caressing his cheek lovingly. 

Ryan didn’t had the heart to tell him he didn’t like this conversation, that he had forgotten all about it in the months they had been getting this close and wasn’t looking forward to being anxious on Shane’s bed when it was his first time here. But Shane looked happy as they were, smiling at Ryan as he caressed his cheek gently.

“I either become the next David Fincher,” Ryan laughed at that, knowing exactly where this was going. “Or die by a demon’s paw on location, and you better keep rolling.”

“God, don’t say that!” Ryan begged, feeling his throat close like that time months ago when they had first gone out and talked about this. “I would never let you die on location. Or ever.”

“You are not gonna let me die?” Shane smiled, his thumb caressed Ryan’s skin with care. It made Ryan sigh. “Do you plan on keeping me forever, Bergara?”

If there was a double meaning to this, Ryan took it, nodding without finding his voice to say something else. Maybe something romantic, confess his feelings and how he had them for so long. Instead, Shane’s forehead leaned on his and they shared the same air, his warm breath making Ryan want to close his eyes and lean into those lips.

“I’ll stick with you, you know,” Shane said. Ryan nodded again and this time, he closed the distance between them.

Shane wanted a perfect kiss, he had told him that in New Orleans months ago. If the two of them smelling of rain and Shane’s aftershave, nested on his sheets as his cat purred somewhere on the pillows over their heads wasn’t the perfection he was looking for, then Ryan was willing to spend the rest of his life searching for it as long as it let him kiss those lips.

He softly moved against Shane’s mouth as the man moaned between them, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. Both his hands were now on Ryan’s face, cradling it gently as they kissed ever so slowly, almost scared of somehow ruining the other, like the other was a precious crystal to be kept untouched.

But they were free to touch each other, and Ryan’s hands were reminded of this as he sank his fingers into Shane’s hair while his other hand traveled down his back, and up again, until it went to his waist and held him there to never let him go.

Their lips made a wet sound when they went apart, Ryan’s eyes still closed, unable to come back to a reality where he wasn’t tasting Shane’s mouth. The man’s soft laugh made him finally open his eyes and find him staring back at Ryan with that spark in his eyes, the same one he had seen so many times before, that many people were noticing in their videos and their Instagram posts.

“I guess that’s a yes?” Shane murmured, Ryan chuckled and rolled his eyes, pecking his lips one, two and three times before kissing him long again, more passionate this time. “Such a good kisser, I knew you were gonna rock my boat.”

“Oh, I’m rocking it. I’m rocking it alright. All night if I can.”

Shane’s smile widened, his face getting pink. “Keep rolling, angel.”

**

If Ryan was dreaming, he better never woke up. 

The morning after he spent the night at Shane’s, he woke up before the man. He watched him sleep for a few seconds, having to get out bed when Obi kept looking at him as if judging him for being a creep. Ryan gave it to the cat, he was maybe being weird, but Shane looked so peaceful and content, it was hard to look away.

He used the bathroom, dressed up in Shane’s button down from last night and his own boxers, and left the room for the kitchen, Obi right behind him, meowing his gratefulness as he ran to the little home office where Ryan knew his scratcher was.

Obi scratched at his toy, the sound filling the apartment in the early morning of the best weekend of Ryan’s life, and he decided right then that he could get used to this and be happy forever.

What had started so long ago felt like it was coming to a friendly end, a thing that initiated something else. Ryan supposed his grandma was right, and every ending, happy or sad, is just a new beginning and this one had left him with purple and reddish marks on his neck, hand prints on his hips, beard burns where only he could see and feel, and a happy smile on his face.

He sighed, very much aware of how he knew Shane’s kitchen as if it were his own, how Shane liked his coffee and what kind of breakfast he liked to have. 

Today was going to be a great morning, no matter what.

**

Ryan never thought people would pick up on his closeness with Shane by such small things like saying– okay, yeah. Maybe that wasn’t so common, right? To know what your friend wanted his last words to be? He blinked a couple of times, scrolling down the comments section of their first ever Q & A video for their Unsolved episodes.

This had been one of Shane’s strokes of genius, a small video answering questions and comments for each video they got out on Friday. It wasn’t strange at all that management had liked the idea and greenlight it for them to film every Monday to go online on Wednesday.

Looking at the comments, wondering what people would say of their newest addition, Ryan never thought he would encounter praise for their friendship, “they really are that close”, and well. He arched an eyebrow. He would expect so, seeing this was the man he was sleeping with now.

“Stop doing that to yourself,” he heard at his side, Ryan turned to see Shane still driving, looking in front instead of him. “I see you, stop torturing yourself with the comments sections. That’s a strange place and you know it.”

“I just wanted to know what they thought of the Post Mortem thing.”

“You can tell the intern to have a look at that.” He smiled, looking at Ryan for a few seconds before turning his eyes to the road again. 

Ryan sighed, leaning his head on the window as he watched Shane drive, an unusual image that felt like some sort of dream to him. One that came true, he noted. His reality couldn’t be happier now, even if they weren’t ready to put it everywhere on social media yet.

“They say we’re really close.”

“Well, seeing we have dick appointments with each other, I would hope so.”

He chuckled, their laughs echoing in the car before they sank into comfortable silence. 

That day had been actually good. They had gotten the green light on their idea to go to England, have some episodes of Unsolved over there, and enjoy vacations after. It meant not only another step on their growing show, but a step in their relationship.

Vacations with Shane to another country, now that they were together… boy, maybe the fact that they were such good friends before getting into each other’s skin the way they had done was a good thing. It took off some of the initial doubts and awkwardness, let him dive into domesticity and couple life as soon as possible.

“We are really close,” Shane said while they waited on a red light. Ryan looked at him. The man smiled when he looked back. “I don’t think anyone knows me like you do.”

“Oh, come on…” he said with a huge grin, face feeling warm. “I already suck your cock, no need to say those things.”

Shane chuckled and shook his head. “You little shit, I mean it!”

Ryan laughed, leaving his phone aside and looking as Shane’s face turned bright, his happy expression ever so beautiful on him, and it made Ryan feel proud to know he had put that face on him. He sighed as Shane drove again, closer to his apartment now.

“Ry?” he called him. Ryan looked back and waited. “When was the last time you were in your apartment?”

His face felt warmer. If he hadn’t blushed before, he sure was now.

“I, I can take a Lyft–”

“No, no.” Shane looked at him for a couple of seconds, then back to the road. “In fact, you don’t have to go back anymore if you don’t want to.” He said, Ryan’s eyes opened wide. “You know?”

“Shane…”

“I’m saying, come live with me. Us.” He said, smiling at him when they stopped on another red light. “I’m sure Obi would love to have you there officially.”

Ryan blinked a couple of times, heart pounding in his chest as he thought of his initial question. When was the last time he was in his own apartment? He couldn’t even remember. And he didn’t have to.

Looking up at Shane, Ryan nodded with a big smile.

“I would love to, big guy.”

“Great!”

The light turned green, and they kept going, closer to home.

**

“I’m just saying, people know I love you,” Shane said and Ryan looked at him immediately, eyes wide open. But the man kept scrolling down his Twitter feed, distracted. “I don’t think it would be a bad idea for us to just… Get out there and say it.”

“Shane,”

“I guess neither of us are out of the closet online, but it’s not like if we have been hiding all this time. Have we?” He finally put the phone down, looking at Ryan with a frown.

He blinked a couple of times, watching Shane act like if he hadn’t just drop a bomb on them with such simple words. It wasn’t even the ‘coming out online’ shit that was about to give him a headache, but the copious amount of times Ryan was to overthink Shane confirming he loved him that had left him mute.

Shane arched an eyebrow, looking behind him, then back at Ryan who was still pretty much in shock. He left his phone of the coffee table and cradle Ryan’s face as he often did.

“Ry?”

“You, you said–”

The man blinked, unaware of what was going on. He seemed to be thinking about it, probably going through their previous conversation to understand why Ryan was so still, so into his head to even talk.

Shane’s eyes widened and he looked about ready to panic for just a few seconds, but it was all replaced with a huge grin and that shine in his eyes that melted Ryan in the spot.

“People do know I love you.”

Ryan’s face felt warm, he wondered what color he was blushing. Shane kept smiling at him, caressing his cheeks before kissing him softly, the cat purring somewhere on Ryan’s back, probably rolling his eyes at them being like this once again in his presence, right in front of his whiskas. 

He wanted to yell at himself, so easily distracted from the moment with every thought that passed his head, every sound outside their bubble. Ryan was nervous, Shane chuckled against his lips after he barely responded, probably aware he was just… so anxious for nothing.

“Do you know I love you?” Shane asked, his voice sounding so soft, it made Ryan swallow.

“I… I don’t know…  I do now?”

Shane chuckled again, this time getting closer to Ryan’s face to kiss his forehead. Shane hugged him, letting Ryan lean his head on his shoulder. The vibrations of his laugh made him look up, clearing his throat before cradling Shane’s face. 

The man smiled at him.

“I love you,” Ryan murmured. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Mmm.” The man smiled. “I know.”

Ryan laughed, he could easily slap Shane for Han Solo-ing him, but there was just– his eyes and the way he was kissing him, how far they had come. Ryan kissed him softly, deepening the kiss as soon as he could, pushing the man to lay into the couch with him on top.

“Scoundrel.” 

Shane smiled, pecking his lips once before finally, finally saying: “I love you too, sweetheart.”

**

If you asked Ryan, things started in the Sallie House.

That night, his attraction to Shane made itself notice in the way Ryan’s heart kept beating fast as the man held his hand between them, laying on the floor as he tried to sleep again. He had taken the footage from the final cut of the video, never spoke about it with the man until years later, when they were more than friends and had started to live together.

Watching it now, how young they were and how much was ahead, it made him smile.

“We were so fucking obvious, holy shit.” Shane murmured at his side, looking through cut footage from many episodes of their show. “You think people will be like ‘we been knew’ when they see this?”

“I think half of the internet already has, Shane.” He conceded. It had been a hilarious couple of years with fans and homophobes alike saying the weirdest, sometimes amazing things on their every platform. “But I think it’s time, don’t you?”

“Ryan, why did you never tell me that you can see my hard on during Goatman’s Bridge?” Shane asked instead, serious with a shine in his eyes that made Ryan’s whole body shiver. “This is the kind of cut shit you should show me more often, angel.”

“You are into such weird shit…” Including him, Ryan wanted to add. Ryan bit his bottom lip, waiting for Shane to answer.

When it didn’t come, he looked up from the tiny video they were doing to “officially” announce their relationship. Shane wasn’t on his side of the bed, and when Ryan looked around to find him, the man had taken away his laptop and tugged at his heels to get him under his body.

“What are you doing, you weirdo?” Ryan asked between laughs, Shane winked at him.

“You know what else is mine aside from that bridge?”

“Oh my God. No, no, get out! We have work to do!”

“You.” He smirked. “You are mine, baby. Until death do us apart. And maaaaybe beyond, right? If your faith can guide us there.”

He felt his cheeks blush, Shane’s smile was too sweet for someone who was about to bone his boyfriend a second time that day. Ryan rolled his eyes, smiling at him when Shane brushed his crotch with his, already getting hard in his pants. 

“You are so fucking corny.” 

“Horny, baby. Horny.”

If you asked Ryan, this was the start of the golden years of their lives together.

***

**

*

[whatwecouldhavebecome]

The Day I Was Saved

I wrote this letter in September 2018, I was ready to die. I wanted to. I chose to shoot heroin that day to kill myself. For whatever reason there was, I didn’t die. My dad found me... I went to the hospital, I was forced to stay for detox. Amphetamines are my addiction. I just knew heroin would have been the fastest way out. So I thought.

I just want to share this so that I can relinquish the feelings that I had that day. Also to share one of the darkest parts of my past. In active addiction, I would write down everything that was negative or that became a trauma for me. In my recovery, I have discovered that sharing all of the negative, and getting those words out there, I get to relinquish them to things much greater than myself. I get to feel at peace. Who knows, maybe in sharing,I’ll be able to help someone else find their recovery, or even reach out. I write everything down in my recovery too, but I aim to only write down the positives. Letting this go is a positive. So, this might be hard to read or bare, but it’s necessary for my healing. Enjoy my open mind, kind heart, and raw emotions.  

09/05/2018

“For Whoever Finds Me:

I’m sorry... I just wanted to find my peace...

I live in a world with monsters that are screaming inside of me.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be saved.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be brave.

I’m sorry this is what I’ve chosen.

Instead of picking red flowers; I’ve become purple and blue, and my skin, age, and time are forever frozen. If this is the last thing you remember of me, I’m sorry... 

I’m sorry I couldn’t leave drugs be. I’m sorry I couldn’t be happy. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you proud of me... 

I’m sorry I couldn’t be sober. 

But mostly, I’m sorry to me. 

Poppa...

I’M SO SORRY...

I loved you. I still love you. I always will. I’m going to miss you. I know you’ll miss me too.

It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to hate me. I’m sorry I can’t find it in me to love myself; not the way you guys love me.

When I’m found please don’t cry. You don’t even have to ask why.I want you to know that this is what I chose. I’m sorry I never told you I was on the brink, I’ve been letting myself drown. I’ve poked holes over every place a needle could go in my body. I have bruises from tourniquets and relentless stabbing from every time I’ve attempted to intoxicate me. 

I want you to know this is my first time doing dope. It was easy to get, pretty cheap and a little goes a long way when my tolerance has no sway. I’m going to be alright now. I’m sorry I chose selfishly and you have to go through this torment all over again. 

Whenever you want to hear me listen to these and I hope you’ll sing along with me. 

My Little Girl - Tim McGraw - I’ll always be your little girl. With you, I’ve always had a home. You’ve always kept me safe. Addiction is the one thing I’m not able to be saved from. 

To My Parents - Anna Clendening - All the words that I’ve wanted to say, do, and achieve, For all I’ve wanted to be. I love you so much for loving me...

Dancing In The Sky - Dani and Lizzy - I hope you learn to be happy because if you ever wonder if I’m more alive, I will tell you yes. There is peace in my decision and I finally feel safe. 

I love you, Daddy...

When you couldn’t, you still saved me... You gave me you. You’re the best dad anyone could ever have. Keep my baby sister safer than I ever kept myself.

I love you. I pinky promise. You mean the most to me. Don’t cry for me, Daddy... Smile, laugh, and be. Simpy just be. I’m free. I’m safe. I’m not drowning. 

My phone password is XXXX

Bank Account Info XXXXXXXXXXXX

My phone gallery may not be a good idea to look at, if you want any pictures, I would have someone else get them. 

I love you so much. When I get where I’m going I don’t know if she’ll be there waiting for me or not but I hope she can give me the warmest hug and we’ll sit and wait for the rest of you. 

And if I meet God, I’ll ask him to fix the empty and broken parts of you. I love you.More than life itself.

Taking mine will keep you all safe from everything heroin will destroy. Forgive me, okay?

:Love Always,

Your baby, 

Roxey Logan XXXXX

Thank you for loving me when loving myself hasn’t been an option. 

This is not goodbye, Dad. 

It’s just my last ‘I love you’ until you come home with me and mom. 

If this doesn’t do the job, for the love of God, put me in rehab.

Meanwhile, I’ll see you again one day, Poppa <3

Always, I pinky promise.

Donovan and Oliver,

For the nephew that won’t have any memories of me, I’m so sorry. I wish I could have made myself be a better aunt for you. I only met you four times in your whole nine months of happy, healthy, growing life. I have a couple videos of you when you were just learning to laugh. I just got back from taking Nanna home. Me and your mommy stopped at CVS and the dome light came on. I asked you ‘who tuned on the sun?’ You gave me the biggest grin your chubby cheeks would allow and a squeal that could shatter the thickest glass pane windows. But Ollie, let me tell you, that was the warmest, most genuine excitement I’ve had in a long time. I love you so much Oliver L. You’ll do amazing things, achieve things others thought impossible. I’m sorry you’ll never have crazy, stupid adventures with Aunt Roxey. I love you, sweet, sweet, boy. I’ll always watch over and protect you. You deserve every bit of good in the world. 

You’re perfect. 

Love always, Aunt Roxey

Sweet dreams for now Ollie. <3 One day, you’ll meet me.

Stay peaceful, innocent, humble, and never forget to be brave.

Donovan, 

Thank you.

For everything you’ve ever done for me. From listening to me, to giving me every bit of tough love and honesty I’ve needed to hear. Thank you for hugging me every time before you leave. I’m sorry I’ve been irresponsible and unreliable. But, I love you. Thank you for not hating me after everything. I love you so God damn much. I can’t express. I cherish all of our memories; the good, the bad, and he ugly. Every memory reminds me no matter what at the end of everyday, you love me. 

Two Again - Christian Burrows - Anytime you think of me, listen and I’ll be here. 

I love you, Don-Don

Birth to 23, you’ve always been the nest big brother anyone could ever need. 

Always & Forever, 

Your 1st crazy little sister,

Roxey Logan XXXXX

(For old times sake,) 

Pudgey

Jaiden,

You, my sweet, sweet, baby... You are perfect. You are beautiful. You are loved. You are wanted. You are smart, crazy, the bravest of the stinkin’ brave. You’re wonderful. You’re the sunshine after the rain. <3 You’re the flowers on summer days. 

I remember when you came home. I wanted to treat you like a baby doll. 

Be brave for Don-Don Ollie, and Daddy. But, most importantly, be brave for you. You’re the most important person to you. Don’t do the same things I chose to do. I love you. Never forget that. 

Pretty Little Sister - Monica Michael - She says everything I haven’t been able to. I love you, Punk. 

Love always, Roxey Poxey”

Now that it’s all out in the “public” I can close that chapter of my book and I can begin to reestablish my life and begin again. I love this freedom I’m creating for myself. I’m proud of how far I’ve come since then. It’s impressive. I just want to keep growing and learning from myself and expand my support systems and continue to be alive. 

I’m an addict. But I’m an addict in recovery. We do that ya know, recovery is beautiful. Come to this side of life. The one where you discover your worth. Every life is worth living. No matter how bad it seems to be at the time. 

You are loved. 

I matter. You matter. We matter.

Love always, 

Roxey-Logan-XXXXX

[malereader-inserts]

Sol Lucet Omnibus

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Loki x Male!Reader Summary: The sun shines on all things Word Count: 1,410 Request: “yo do you maybe do Loki? Loki x male reader? :) anything Loki would really cheer up my day any day. thank you, even if you don't do it. (also you're the reason I'm gonna watch Gotham haha thanks xx)” Warning: Homophobia, Heavily implied abuse A/n: YES share my love for Gotham and my bbys! um, i feel a little embarrassed because i’m not sure if i correctly portrayed an abuse victim correctly - any tips and pointers would be helpful if I didn’t.

“This has got to be the stupidest fucking idea any of you assholes has come up with.”

You stood in the middle of the living room of the Avengers base compound as Sam and Bucky were grinning at you whilst Tony held up his thumbs up for you. Natasha shrugs her shoulders as Steve looked stressed to the max, whereas Thor was enjoying the situation whilst Loki looked very flustered.

“I don’t know about you, (Y/n),” there was a singsong tone to Clint's voice, “I say it’s a ten out of ten solid plan.”

“You want Loki to be my fake boyfriend to get rid of my homophobic parents?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest, “My parents would be better of seeing me dead than with another man.”

“Which is why you live with us and you’re protected by us,” Steve stressed out, running his hand through his hair.

After your team had found out about your parents, everyone had activated their protective mode. Discreetly moving you out of your family home, which instead of your family kicking you out had isolated you in your room where you only left if you were running errands for them and they will always be tracking your location which is why being a superhero was ten times harder when your parents were constantly making sure you haven’t run from your abusive home.

Since then, Tony had replaced your phone. Clint, Natasha and Wanda had taken you out for a shopping trip whilst Sam, Bucky and Steve burnt your old clothes - hoping that burning anything associated with your home was gone, nothing could touch you now. Anything else that could have harmed you in any form, mentally, physically or emotionally Thor and Loki took care of that. 

Your team had tried not to show that they were tiptoeing around the subject before the atmosphere was normal again. But, there were still moments when someone had said something out of line and caused you to be upset, which they tried to correct themselves as quickly as they could.

They hated the way you would stay quiet when they argued, Steve and Tony had to learn to discuss mattered rather shout it at each other. The team had to slowly build your trust, so that meant to playful fake punches towards you because it broke their heart when you flinched.

They were understanding.

Some more than others.

But, the team took it day by day. Soon enough, you were back to your playful little self that the team had met the first time, cracking jokes and whatnot. Of course, you weren’t ever going to ‘get over’ it over the night.

You had to darken days, some greyer than most, but the understood. They never pushed you out, always making sure you were at least keeping up with your meals and encouraging you to take a shower or change environment when the bad days stretched out to days to weeks.

Your team became your family, Bruce and Tony upgrading the security every other month. Within the first month of being free of your family’s hatred towards you, you had asked at least one member of the team to accompany you when you go out. At first, it was Rhodey, he was gentle and understanding, but he was a military man who wasn’t afraid to sucker punch a man in the jaw.

You soon asked Bucky if you wanted to go out the base and into New York, you two dorks would enjoy your time and not many approaches you or Bucky. Plus, the man can put an angry act if he wants to.

But, your favourite person you loved to ask out to New York city was Loki. You and he had the same feeling of being ridiculed, being pushed to the side. But, his heart will always be heavy for you because you don’t deserve hatred in your way, you don’t deserve the things you’ve been through. You deserve bunches of flowers, painted skies and a whole realm if he could give it to you.

You found comfort in his presence and you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to defend you. 

Which is why the team thought it was perfect to make Loki your fake boyfriend.

Other than the way you two had slowly grown fondness towards each other and that most people knows not to mess with the God of Mischief, but your past has caught up with you. After months of going into New York by yourself, you had run into your family. You came back home all quiet and refused to have your dinner.

Your family wanted you back, but you refused. When you had told the team, FRIDAY had scanned you down and found that they had tagged you in your whereabouts. Leading you and the team to believe that they were on their way to “collect” you.

“I’d say we just block the doorway,” Loki suggested, noticing how you shifted your uncomfortableness between your feet, “We are the Avengers after all.”

“Fine, but fake boyfriend is plan B.”

You looked at Loki and send him a thankful smile, you would rather coop yourself in your room than face a dinner with your team and your family. It also saves Loki from embarrassment in pretending to be your boyfriend.

You were sure you don’t deserve the love or affection people crave.

Loki was sure to change that thought about you because all he wants to do it treasure you, to worship you.

“Knock knock,” Loki drawls out as you look up from your reading in your room, you watched how Loki round up to your doorway.

He has a soft small smile on his precious face, his arms full of books as he comes invading your room - only after you had shown him enough comfort to allow him in your room. Sometimes, even though you trusted the Avengers you rather not have your personal bubble invaded.

He perches on your bed as you move so he could spill all the books onto your bed, you gave him a questioning look.

“The team has assigned me to stay with you until future notice.”

You frowned, “You know you can say my parents.”

“Cannot hurt to be careful.”

You sigh woefully, “I don’t like the pity.”

Loki looks at you, his knitted eyebrows coming undone, “I may be the least qualified person to offer any advice or solace but asking for help doesn’t make you weak. It takes a certain kind of strength to accept your shortcomings.”

You scoffed, as Loki pursed his lips and thought about his words.

“Perhaps that came off wrong-”

“No, you’re right, Loki, my weakness will always be part of me, it’s who I am.”

“(Y/n),” There was a sharp tone to his voice but there was a soft gaze when you looked at him, he shows no harm. You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head and heaving out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry for being such a burden. Just forget what I said. I’m fine, I swear, I’m just overreacting. I’ll get past it.”

”Stop that. You have every right to be upset, alright? Stop apologizing for having feelings. I’m here for you.” Loki moves his hand to hold your hand before stopping, waiting for you to make the move - afraid he would push boundaries, “May I try again?

Your shoulders relax as you slowly nod, there was silence between you two as Loki thought carefully of his words. You wanted to smile at how thoughtful this God could be despite his wrongdoings, slowly you reached over and held the outstretched hand.

“You’re possibly the strongest, bravest man I have witnessed, and to bear such strength of a God truly blows me away,” Loki spoke as if he was wary of what he was stating, “You’ll be the bigger man because if you were born with the weakness to fall, then you were born with the strength to rise.”

“You think that?”

“I know that,” Loki hums, rubbing his thumb over your hand, “You’re home, (Y/n), you’re safe and I’ll be positive to make sure nothing will harm you again.”

“Promise?”

There was a sparkle in your eyes, Loki had ignited that spark of hope within you again. He offers you a reassuring smile and squeezing your hand as you pull through a smile in return.

“You have my word, (Y/N).”

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

Favorite Passage Written

thanks for the tag @galadrieljones! For this tag, you share your personal favorite passage that you have written this far. 

I’m going to tag @agentkatie @laraslandlockedblues @ladymdc @negotiator-on-site @bitchesofostwick @inquisitorsmabari @melaena @idrelle-miocovani @lyriumyue:) ALSO if you see this and I didn’t tag you but you want to do it anyway....please do it and tag me! :)

I tried approach this differently. I considered isolated passages by themselves with consideration to how they appeared as a part of a whole. In truth I think as an artist I am more attached to my current DBH project and will probably end up writing something that surpasses this (If I not already have, I was close to picking the chapter where Connor and Sophie dance to “now or never.”) However, I picked a snippet from the penultimate chapter of my first fanfic I published, In Waking Dreams. This is my favorite passage from my slowburn for a number of reasons: Removed from the work as I am now, I think the writing is quite stunning. A lot of times time will make me go ehhhhh but I am still quite proud of this. Furthermore it’s a good summation of Cullen and Lydia’s relationship, kind of mystical with a raw passion and sensuality, mutual support clear. I had always planned on them having this conversation about faith at this point in the story, and it was fulfilling to get to write it. It also callbacks an earlier important chapter, which I find dramatically satisfying. 

Anyway, here it is: (under the cut for length and also slightly nsfw, though not too graphic.)

Warmth like the light of a candlelit glow was her skin, soft against his rough palms. She was warm and beckoning underneath him, her arms and legs coiled around his waist, pressing his body into hers. Time did not slow during their night before, the night before the world would change, but in their lovemaking, they were unhurried and slow. She was neither the Herald, nor the Inquisitor, and though she looked as Cliodna looked in the book of stories his mother used to read to him, she was not Cliodna. She was Lydia. Radiant as the sun, beautiful as the sun and eventually the moon and stars that spilled from her open balcony. Radiant, beautiful, and brave Lydia. Once, he recalled, she said he was the one that was brave. But he found her the bravest of all.

He stopped counting the minutes in her arms, stopped trying to be anything other than what he was. He was frantic and desperate at first, too needy. He wanted every inch of her, immediately and all at once. He kept it out of his mind the entire day, that perhaps he could lose her, that she may not come back. At last, alone in her room and in her arms, together in their own little world, the thought came. If this truly could be the last time, if he would live the rest of his life without living in her sun…

A whisper of his name, a hand on his chest beckoned him: slow.

“Cullen,” she said, as his mantle fell to the floor, followed by his breast plate, followed by everything else, “slow.”

He was in her arms soon after, and they were stripped to the most basic parts of themselves in front of the open sky, in front of the evening sun. Cullen and Lydia. The whole world could murmur and whisper about how different they were, how uncommon. The sun knew they weren’t different at all. The sun, and then later the moon and stars, knew how he was only really Cullen, when he was with Lydia.

She sighed afterward when his beard tickled her stomach, his cheek against the slight plumpness. The unexpected sound delighted him. For as slow as their love was, every moment held a gravitas. He filled her, sank deep inside inch by inch as their hands interlocked together, and their eyes never once drifting away, save when they kissed. He lived a lifetime in her eyes. He committed every part of her to memory. Every sigh, every sharp intake of breath, every touch, he sealed within to remember.

Her content sigh, her hand caressing his cheek, it brought him home.

“You’ve never lost your faith.”

The statement, said in the after of their coupling, surprised him a little. “I’m not sure of that,” he admitted, gliding across her body. “I may have. Once or twice at least.”

“But you always came back,” she said. “You always came back to your faith.”

It was a comfort, during the long nights he went without sleep in Kirkwall. It was a comfort to think there was a grand design somewhere, that perhaps the Maker had more for him. It was perhaps why he didn’t do something sooner, make his own life.

He knew better then. He knew to believe, have faith. Have faith, but act. Always, act.

“I saw Morrigan before you came to the chantry,” he said, his memories bringing him back to the more immediate.

“Did she have a sarcastic quip ready for you?” Lydia asked, a smile in her eyes.

“No,” Cullen said, chuckling as he remembered her earlier comment about griffons. “She only said that I should believe in you.”

“I know you do. I see it when you look at me, and…” she sighed, content as he gently kissed her neck and collar. “You believe in me. Even at the beginning, when I wasn’t sure if I believed in myself.”

His brows furrowed. “You didn’t believe?”

“I don’t think I did at first. Not when so much of my life was spent living the way I lived.”

“It wasn’t all me,” he said, for he knew, it was mostly her.

“I found freedom in so many different ways.” She stroked his cheek. “Someday, we’ll be free. I believe that.”

“What else do you believe in?”

“Living,” she said simply.

“And...?”

“This moment. Our freedom. You. Us.”

He wondered. She invoked the Maker, but she never spoke of Andraste, or if she was devout. “Do you believe in the Maker?” he asked.

She was silent for a moment, contemplating. “I wasn’t sure if I believed in Him,” she admitted. “Or any gods, really. I still don’t know, after what I’ve seen, strange as it may be. But feeling the way you make me feel? That’s given me more reason to believe, more than anything that’s happened. I can’t understand kneeling and praying to the Maker. But if it gives people hope, if it gives you hope, and if you still believe after all this time, then I admire you.”

“Come back to me.”

He didn’t plead to the Maker or Andraste. His plea was to her.

She closed her eyes. The confession came. “Cullen. I’m frightened.”

She rose a little, her eyes meeting his. They lived another lifetime in each other eyes. “Not of Corypheus,” she said. “He doesn’t frighten me. What frightens me if the thought of leaving you.”

A tear fell, and then another, Lydia wiped them away, kissed them as they fell from his cheeks.

“I didn’t want this to happen” he admitted of his tears, though that was pointless now. “I wanted to be happy tonight. I didn't want to see you off with any tears.”

Another kiss. “How long did you bottle up your emotions, Knight Captain Cullen? Cry. Cry for me.”

Then, she cried too. He couldn’t say whose tears he tasted. He could only say that some of the happiest times of his life, were also the saddest. He couldn’t say how it began again, only that he moved to his back, and Lydia moved atop him. He held her hips and he made her come against his fingers, then he kissed her neck as she moved her hips against him. Wandering hands caressed his back, stroked his hair. Hungry mouths, soft lips kissed shapes and plains. She still kissed away tears.

“Cullen. If anything happens to me, if—”

“No.”

“Cullen.”

“No.”

She sighed, momentarily stopping her ministrations. “I only wanted to say, that I want you to live. You must live, no matter what.”

“How can I live without my heart?”

“Cullen…” She closed her eyes, fell against him. “My love. My love.”

He pressed his forehead against hers as he came, fire coiling and warm. Their foreheads touched and he sighed, as if it could implore her to let her hear his thoughts, see the life he wanted with her. It was a beautiful life, with no fighting, the two of them building a home, and a family. Living.

“If you…”

“I would want you to live,” she said. “You must promise me you will.”

“You will come back. To believe anything else…I—” he buried his head against the crook of her neck. “Your life. It…it has never been fair to you, has it? You were taken away to the Circle so young. You came to the Conclave. After everything that happened, there’s a life after. There must be.”

“It’s with you. But if—”

“No Lydia, no. Please do not ask me this. I’ll give you anything, but I won’t…I can’t…”

“You’re so beautiful, when you’re happy.”

“You make me happy. I can’t be happy without—”

“Do you remember Cliodna and Conchobar?”

The story. The story his mother told him as a child, the story he told her, under the stars after Adamant.

“I remember,” he said. “I do.”

“What did Cliodna realize, when the Lady of the Skies asked her to look around?”

“Everywhere,” he said, closing his eyes, knowing. “He was everywhere.”

Their foreheads pressed together again. They were in the same world.

“No matter what happens to me,” Lydia whispered. “I am everywhere. I am the stars, I am the moon, and the sun, and fire and water. I’m in the garden with roses and jasmine.”

“You will always live,” he promised her. “I swear that no matter what happens, I will make sure they all know who you are.”

“I will always go on living, so long as there is fire in you. Part of me is you. Part of me will always be in you. Our souls, they’re made of the same star stuff. We are in the same constellation, you and I.”

They kissed, and when they kissed, they vowed they were the stars.

[otg2012]

A Thousand Times ‘No’  | James/Thomas | 1785 words

I wanted to make a second moodboard for this story to show both points of view. The first one is happier because it uses Thomas’ line/pov about their future and this version is a little darker, using James’ line about his past.

Morning birds chirping, breeze through the window, soft linen against his skin, strong warm muscles under his body, heart beating steadily under his ear. The stillness. The peace. James is never going to get used to this. Every morning feels like this isn’t real. Maybe when winter comes, things will be different, but for now it still feels surreal.

He certainly doesn’t miss the rocking of the ship, the uncomfortable bunk, the fights to stay alive, the uncertainty of his future... the loneliness. The only thing he misses is Miranda but that is never going to change and he’s long accepted that.

He always knows the moment Thomas wakes up. The change in his breathing, big hands running slowly up and down his back, finding his shoulders, his ass, his neck, his hair. Blue eyes finding his if he looks up. Then his voice, hoarse from sleep. Unmistakable. Beautiful.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

That’s not the first thing he expected to hear that morning, that’s for sure. But then again, Thomas has the innate ability to surprise him more often than not, so it’s not like he’s shocked or anything… it’s more that his brain still needs to wake up completely.

“Why would you even ask me that?” James frowns, looking up at Thomas. Does he really think he could forget that?

“Well, it’s been ten years. Maybe to you, it feels like it happened in another lifetime… I don’t know.”

“Do you… do you feel that way?”

“No… I just. I just wondered last night.”

James snorts. “You’ve never just ‘wondered’ about anything in your whole life. There’s always a reason behind everything you say. So, just tell me what’s on your mind.”

Thomas bites his lips and stays silent at first.

“When they first took me to that hospital. It was… it was difficult.” Thomas finally says. “The only thing that kept me sane was thinking about you. Thinking that you felt the same way I did. Thinking that you and Miranda would be safe far from England. And I kept replaying that moment in my mind every day. Not that I didn’t think about everything else that came after that… but I think that with everything I was going through, a part of me that I can’t even recognise started to regret that moment…”

“Regret?” James raises his eyebrows and moves to the side, propping his head up on his hand.

“Yes, regret... and guilt, I suppose. Remember that I had nothing but time. Time didn’t seem to pass. And I kept going back to that moment thinking how it changed everything for all of us… Wondering where would we be then if I hadn’t approached you… wondering if you would have ever acted on your feelings otherwise... wondering if you’d be happy sailing across the ocean with a new assignment. I wondered a lot of nonsense. And that’s exactly what they wanted. They wanted me to feel shameful… to lose my mind so that I was crazy for real.”

“Thomas--”

“The truth is that with what my actions… I ruined your career and my wife’s life. It was the beginning of the end and you know it as well as I do.”

“You didn’t do anything,” James frowns with debelief. “It was your father’s doing--”

“Yes, but I gave it to him on a silver platter. I gave him the excuse he needed to put an end to our plans. I couldn’t have been more stupid--”

“You couldn’t be stupid even if you tried.” James smiles. “But still, let me tell you… everything you just said, that’s all bullshit. First of all, Miranda was right, as usual… your father would have found the way to put an end to your proposal one way or another. And second of all, I was a very willing participant of that relationship if you remember. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. And I thank god every day because you had the guts to take the step that I was too much of a coward to take.”

“You’ve never been a coward in your life.” Thomas smiles. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

“Yeah, well, that might be the case but when it came to you, Lord Hamilton… I couldn’t find the courage. So to answer what you wondered before… you were right, if you hadn’t…” James licks his lips. “I mean, if you hadn’t done what you did…” James snorts and bites his lower lip, “of course, I would never have said anything.”

“Dear, you didn’t need to say anything else. You made it pretty clear. Not that I needed it at that point… but to actually hear it…” Thomas smiles as he tries to find the right words.

“The confidence in your words gave me the confidence I had been lacking until that night. It was an awakening of sorts, I suppose. I had to kiss you or die trying. It was that simple.”

Thomas closes his eyes and shakes his head as he remembers.

“Shit. That was a side of you I had never seen before and I think… no, I know...” Thomas nods. “That was the moment I fell in love with you… So, no, I didn’t stop to think about the consequences. I forgot about my father, about Miranda... everything that I had thought about before just ceased to exist. The truth is that I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I had wanted to.”

“I’m glad you didn’t stop.” James smiles back as his right hand finds Thomas’ intertwining their fingers.

“Even with everything that came after that?”

“Well, I admit that being away from you for ten years wasn’t ideal… and of course, Miranda should be here to call you on your bullshit… but, I wouldn’t change a single thing about that moment. Well, that’s not true, actually. Maybe you should have waited for her to leave, wouldn’t you agree?”

“As I said, I couldn’t have stopped myself and besides, she knew perfectly about my feelings. It was not surprise to her. If anything, I’m sure she was bewildered it didn’t happen sooner.”

There is a silence after that. James is not sure what to say to that. It’s a weird feeling to think that Miranda knew from the start and accepted it without hesitation, but she knew who she had married from the beginning and she adored him nonetheless. That is something else he loved about her.

“Have you… I mean, have you thought about it?” Thomas asks, mirroring James’ position on his pillow.

“You mean about that night?”

“Yes... when you thought I had died… what did you think about?”

“What did you think I thought about?”

“I asked you first.” Thomas smiles.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be,” James says, amused.

“We’ve never talked about it.” Thomas insists.

“What’s there to talk about?” Thomas should know how he felt and what he went through. He’s supposed to know him as well as he knew Miranda.

“Wasn’t there anybody whom you were close to? Anybody who--”

“Hold on,” James smirks. “so, that is what this is about? You want to know if I fucked anybody else?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No, in so many words, no. But that’s what you’re wondering.”

“James, I didn’t mean--”

“It’s fine. The answer is ‘no’. A thousand times ‘no’. Even if I had wanted to forget you... Even if I had been able to because of some bizarre miracle of nature. I was surrounded by pirates all day long… and yes, I became one of them, I was their captain for god’s sake, but the only thing we had in common was our disdain for England, and in some cases not even that… In some cases, they just hated society as much as society hated them. And wanted nothing else than to live by their rules and die by them. They couldn’t have been more different from you…”

“Even this Silver you talked about? The one who told you where I was?”

James snorts. “God, yes, especially him… Let me put it this way: it’s like you and he belong to complete different species. And it has nothing to do with where he came from… he really was a valuable friend and ally, and I will always be thankful that he found you, but you two have nothing in common, believe me, and I don’t know about you… but even if I hadn’t been comparing everybody to you, I was so full of hate... and grief, that there wasn’t room for anybody else. I didn’t wish for anyone else. Of course, Miranda knew that and that’s why she wanted us to leave Nassau.”

“I thought you’d be fine... together.”

“Yes, well… the fact that it became bearable, didn’t make it fine. When I wanted fine… when I wanted peace for just a moment… I would let myself drift back to those times we fucked against your bookshelf, on your desk, in my bed. Other times I would think about the first time you mentioned… how my heart was beating so fast that I thought it was coming out of my chest… or how when our lips touched, I realised there was no coming back from that. I thought about all the times I came to your office and you kissed me before I could utter a word… about how you wanted me all the time.” James bites his lower lip, unsure if he’s maybe said too much.

“Are you sure that’s all you thought about?” Thomas grins in that wicked way he does sometimes.

“I also thought about the last day we saw each other,” James admits, suddenly somber. “I wouldn’t let myself go there very often… but when I did, I missed the way you read to me. The sound of your voice… your love for that damn book. The way you held me against that window, almost convincing me that there was a future for us. God, I missed your hands…” James looks at the joined hands before finding Thomas’ gaze again. “I thought about everything I should have told you that day and I never got the chance.”

“Well, from now on, you’re not allowed to think about that day ever again, do you hear me? That’s all behind us now. We have a future. A real one.” Thomas smiles. “And I’ll make sure you never miss my hands again.”

James snorts a laugh and smiles. Some of his longer strands fall loosely over his face.

“In that case, I’ll take that as a promise, my lord,” James says as he comes closer, finding Thomas’ lips with his own.

[docholligay]

Thanks for kind words behind the cut

sphinxfeathers replied to your post

“I’m a little nervy about the con/my life right now, so if anyone had...”

Your stories always make my day. Having been a fanfic reader and writer for many years, I’ve seen a lot of people come and go in the fandom and your writing is by far the most amazing and emotional. I hope someday that you write a book and I will be able to enjoy it.

Thank you so much, this is so kind

verbforverb replied to your post

“I’m a little nervy about the con/my life right now, so if anyone had...”

Your fiction always makes me smile. Your non-fiction always makes me think. Your eye for detail in both is incredible, and I find the way you describe the craft of writing incredibly interesting and useful as well. And writing aside, you're kind of an amazing role model and also hilarious, A+ would yell at about eurovision again.

Thank you so much and I swear if the UK ever wins eurovision (AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA) I’m going to be there and we’ll figure out a way to go. 

@themiscyra1983 said: 

Your canons have supplanted actual Sailor Moon and Overwatch canons for me, and did so BEFORE J.K. Rowling finally drove me into full on ‘death of the author is a valid practice we should all as fans adopt like crazy’ mode, so that’s the regard I hold you in, and I’m sorry I can’t come to Toronto but I’m sure you’ll be awesome.

Thank you so much! I love so much, because I am vain, when people tell me I *am* Overwatch to them, and this is the first time I’ve ever heard it about sailor moon and I am THRIVING.

@skylineofspace said: 

I find your honesty and integrity incredibly admirable, and your advice and example has helped me a lot to be better and more satisfied in my own life. Have fun at the con, and be there very slightly nicer Michiru we all need.

ahaha, THANK YOU. THis was so sweet. 

rhiorhino

replied to your post

“I’m a little nervy about the con/my life right now, so if anyone had...”

Idk if like this is weird or cheesy or w/e but I really look up to you a lot, as like a writer and a person, and I've gotten a lot more confident pushing myself to talk about wlw and stuff just from saying "my friend doc and her wife jill" "my buddy, her wife is a vet and-" y'know, stuff like that. It's really helped me push myself to be more open, through you kind of? I really appreciate your frankness and willing to be open about hard truths and what's *needed*  Not just what's *wanted*  I’m like a super anxious and “shaky pink thing” in general but just being in chat with you and jet and everyone, y'all were immediately welcoming and funny and I really enjoyed myself tonight. It was super fun!!

No,this isn’t cheesy, this is LOVELY, thank you so much! And you were a delight!

@notesfromtheidiotbox 

I enjoy your writing and bought Overwatch partially because of them. I adore your fried chicken recipe. And I enjoy that you take no shit from anyone including yourself. You intimidate me, but I still like seeing your thoughts on things even if I haven’t heard or, or even have any interest in them. You are truly unique. The hard-drinkin’, straight-shootin’, fast-writin’, femme-as-hell-but-tough-as-nails, Lesbian Queen O’ the West. -The one, the only Doc Holligay! Yeehaw

THANK YOU SO MUCH also that part made me laugh so hard ahah. 

@sittingoverheredreaming   Your writing had honestly made me such a picky reader, you’re one of the only authors anywhere that has a style I’m super into (I love how artful you are and how much your phrasing and word choices make me think) AND content that I’m starving for. There’s so few works that make me feel the way your fics do. I’ve had maybe a handful of novels and short stories ever even come close. You’re amazing, as a writer and as a person.

I feel so weird about whether I’m a good writer or not, and this is so wonderful and affirming andlovely. Especially since I know you studied writing too! 

madegeeky

replied to your post

“I’m a little nervy about the con/my life right now, so if anyone had...”

You're one of the most talented writers and brilliant public speakers I've ever had the honor of interacting with. Listening to you speak about something your passionate about is mesmerizing in a way I've never experienced before. I could listen to you talk about the things you love for hours.

Thank you so much this was so kind!! 

I am also, and will forever be, angry that you made me love Tracer and her Winston so completely and utterly. Because that’s just how good your writing is: you dragged me kicking and screaming into a fandom I don’t even play the game for. And I’m so happy you did because I love Tracer and Winston and this world you built. But I’m also still angry. ;) 

AHAHAH YES YESSSSSSSS THIS IS MY LARGER GOAL IN LIFE (and her Winston, god do you know how to kill me)

Your writing is so beautiful and so glorious. I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again, but you have a way with images that’s breathtaking. Your fics are so amazing and intricate and beautiful that I don’t read them when I’m sick because I’m scared I’ll miss something and I don’t want to miss anything. I currently have a while backlog and I’m so very excited for when I can finally catch up.

Thank you so much and thank YOU for always leaving such amazing comments. 

You’re one of the bravest people I know. Sometimes, when I know I need to do something but it seem too big and too scary, knowing that you’d do it even if you felt the same way helps me get it done. I admire your gumption tremendously.

WELLNOW I HAVE TO BE BRAVE AND DO THIS DON’T I

@taperwolf  I like your writing: fiction, nonfiction, and scribbleage. You’re consistently interesting, entertaining when you want to be. I think of you when I think of good people.

Thank yoU!!

@paksenarrion-reader  you taught me a lot, and pushed me to seek out more knowledge. Thank you for that.

Thank you!!

@shavedjudomonkey  You’re a person I look up to. I don’t always share your opinions, but you’ve helped show me that that’s okay, and if I’m going to believe the things I do, I need to be willing to step up and defend them.You’ve also encouraged me as a writer. Thank you.

No, cause if you agree with me then you’re stll not doing your research and thinking about stuff! I totally WANT you to come to your own conclusions and disagree sometimes!! Thank you!

  @Mizunosakura You’re an amazing writer, whether it be non-fiction, fanfiction, or commentary, they’re all amazing to read and really engaging. You’re honestly a super interesting person and I always love all your posts even if I suck incredibly when it comes to commenting.

Thank you so much! 

@keyofjetwolf  Whoever bid on those Metallica cassette tapes hasn’t paid yet, and I’m pretty sure now they aren’t going to, which means I made less than ten bucks on about thirteen hours of feverish hard work. That comes out to about 77 cents an hour, but doesn’t factor in the fifty cassette tape shipping boxes that I bought in an act of both obscene optimism and critical overestimating.  In conclusion, I spent half a day peddling my garbage to no one and paid for the privilege, THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT

Everyone was very sweet but you took the prize for something that made me laugh no less than every single one of the three times I read it. 

[lumoshyperion]

This will be a bit long but I wanted to say I agree with you about Scorpius and how his growth and bravery is integral to his character. If I'm being honest I'm not a fan of people writing Scorpius as a still nervous kid who is still so unsure of himself after the events of CC, which unfortunately a lot of people do. But the Scorpius at the end is not the same Scorpius who we first see on the train. That Scorpius is so unsure of himself and of the world but there's also this self-confidence about him and a determination. But this is a boy who has been very much sheltered from the world and hasn't really seen anybody outside of his family so he's awkward and has terrible social skills. Everything he has learned about friendships have come from books until he meets Albus. And even in school he's still kind of sheltered in the little world he and Albus has created due to being bullied. But then the whole adventure with saving Cedric happens and for the first time in his life he's been put in situations that really show the type of character Scorpius is. We see this in the MoM when he's left to solve the riddle, when he stands up to Albus, when he bravely fights to save the world from the dark au, when he fends of the dementors with happy thoughts of Albus, when he stands up to Delphi even when she uses the torture curse and when he bravely stands up to Delphi again with everyone else. Scorpius has found out that he's a lot more braver than he or even Draco thought he was and this has given him a lot more confidence but I think more than that I think when you've faced your worst nightmare head on and already won, there's hardly anything that scares you anymore. Scorpius in the end is brave but not reckless type of brave but a quiet brave who will always try and do what's right. I think this is also the same bravery Albus has. Scorpius is confident but not an arrogant type of confidence but a confidence that is more sure of himself and in his own skills and a confidence that he will be himself no matter what. Scorpius has an inner strength to him that neither Draco nor Lucius had. Scorpius very much reminds me of Neville in how much they both grow from two 11 year old who aren't sure of themselves to being two of the some of the most bravest characters in the HPU. Scorpius also reminds me of Luna and Hermione as well. Ah that was a really long ask but I really love Scorpius growth and it's sad that a lot of writers sometimes don't translate that to their own writing.

This is one of the BEST ASKS I have EVER RECEIVED, oh my god, I would like to be friends immediately. Thank you for sending this - you've gone into such incredible detail here and I value that SO MUCH sakljflksj icon behaviour.

I'd like to preface my reply by saying that of course neither of us are saying that people can't write or view Scorpius the way they have been. It's a script that billions of people have read, and it's a play that was being performed across multiple cities with numerous different actors playing the role. Naturally there's going to be different interpretations of it, and that's okay! We're all carrying our own baggage that we bring to the fiction we read and watch. We all respond differently, and that's beautiful - that's the human condition.

I saw a play recently that I've seen done before by lots of other companies over the years, and I didn't really understand how one of the characters was performed. But my friend who also saw the play singled out that actor's performance and explained in detail why it spoke to him, personally. This is the beauty of storytelling and of theatre in particular. It's so personal! A play that you see now, in this moment, won't be the same when you return to it years later. Scripts are revisited over and over, and what a director and an actor saw in it in 2019 will be wholly different to what they see in it now. People change and grow, and what matters to us now might not matter to us in three, six, ten years time?

But, going off on that, isn't Scorpius capable of change, too? Isn't Albus? They go through so much in the play - more than most of us will ever go through in our lifetimes - and wouldn't it be reductive or worrying if they went through all that and stayed exactly the same? The word I see associated so often with Scorpius is “soft”. And there’s nothing wrong with that word, but it has connotations of being childish or fragile. Of needing to be looked after. And it’s true that Scorpius is compassionate and kind. He’s a good person, he’s patient and loyal and when he loves, he loves fiercely. And it is true that he was, as you’ve said, a sheltered kid. In Edge of the Forest, as they look up at the school, Scorpius explains how he saw Hogwarts as this special, faraway place. And how he always dreamed that one day he’d go there and he’d have a friend who was just like Harry Potter. Albus closes up when he hears this, protesting that he’s nothing like his dad. And Scorpius tells him, “No, you’re better. You’re my best friend, Albus.”

And I think that’s such a perfect, underrated moment between them? Scorpius used to have such specific ideals and dreams about going to Hogwarts. And instead of letting the bullying and the rumours destroy those dreams, he changes them. He finds joy in other places. I think people forget that there’s different kinds of bravery. And even before the misadventure with Albus, Scorpius is already being brave. Not many people can still be optimistic and kind through the sort of hardships Scorpius went through. Your ask made me think of something Nyx Calder (the Australian production’s Scorpius) said last year when asked what they learned from Scorpius:

“Bravery is not a single act of heroism, and neither is it being fearless at all times; bravery is a daily dedication to being someone you can be proud of, and in the process, the ones who you love and who love you will be proud of you too.”

And you’re right, anon, it is sad when people ignore Scorpius’s bravery and growth throughout the play. Bravery isn’t just the sort of reckless bravery and heroism that we associate with Gryffindors like Harry and his friends. Bravery is standing up for your friends. Bravery is using the love and innate joy you carry with you, to fight off the dementors. Bravery is doing what is right, not what is easy. Bravery is knowing what kind of world Delphi wants, knowing that there’s little you can do to fight her, and yet still openly laying down your life if it will stop her. Bravery is going through what Scorpius did in the Dark AU, and using those experiences to learn something about himself. To realise that he is capable of bravery, after all. It’s such a beautiful arc. And it is sad to see it ignored. It is sad to see that growth and strength of character left out completely, in favour of a more anxious and childish Scorpius who never learned any of those lessons.

I think there's just a temptation to view favourite characters, particularly comfort characters, the way Scorpius is viewed. I know I've done this in the past - to the point where I was ignoring canon in order to project a lot of myself and my insecurities onto a character. So I understand where this trope has come from and I know it's not done consciously or maliciously. It's just become a very real pattern within fandom, and it only happens to characters like Scorpius, characters from mlm ships who present a certain way, and - that's where I start to find it worrying? It strips those characters of a lot of their nuance in order to present them in a way that makes the reader want to take care of this character. It takes away a lot of the bravery, strength, and confidence Scorpius gains over the course of the play and reduces him to someone who is wholly reliant on Albus and who needs to be looked after/coddled by everyone around him.

I think I’ve gone on for a bit too long, so I’ll stop here, but thank you again for this incredibly insightful ask! Much love x

ask me things about year two, year three, and other things!