#anyway ty for the ask!! i am glad you like my stuff so much - thank you!

[nyoomerr]

HI HI i continue to read and reread ur fics for inspiration <3 you're just sooo good at nailing binggeyuan

do you have any tips when it comes to taming a feral, resentfup bingge? or, hmm, what do you focus on when doing the bingmeification?

ahh thank you, i'm glad that you enjoy my stuff enough to reread it! i love those freaks too much, what can i say 😌

as for how to bingmei-ify your local feral bingge:

this is only kind of a joke. generally i like to follow this sort of recipe:

bingge's usual method of doing things doesn't get him what he wants, making him question his beliefs

bingge experiences things he had not had in his "happy ending" in pidw and realizes he likes them, making him question if his "happy ending" was actually as happy as he thought

bingge faces growing frustration as a result of 1+2

something breaks the tension and causes bingge to snap and have a genuine breakdown, forced to realize that he has been, and perhaps still is, unhappy despite everything. (MAKE THAT MAN CRY!)

shen yuan does something that shows he cares for bingge even after having seen bingge at his lowest, and perhaps even cares more for bingge at his lowest than he did when bingge was projecting himself as a perfect (in his eyes) man. no one has ever loved bingge like that before. it's addicting and freeing and humiliating in equal measures. even with as miserable as it is, it's better than his old "happy ending." bingge will do anything to keep it - he'll be anything to keep it, since what he was before wasn't working.

whoops! your bingge has been made pathetic and soggy!! no going back now!! :)))

and of course it's critical that shen yuan is obsessed with bingge the whole way through, at every step of the soggification. the number one way to ensure your feral dog is healthy is to ensure he is cared for!!

[badaspebble]

ah i’m loving your writing~!! i would like to request something where reader is a trainee on a survival show, since swf dancers often become judges, bada being a judge/mentors, and maybe reader gives her secret love letters? or flirts with her off camera because she has a crush. it doesn’t haven’t to be a whole oneshot or something headcanons would be cool too ! ty~

✎ To My Secret Admirer

A/N: Hey babe! Thank you for the compliment and the ask 🫶🏽. I hope you’re doing well. This is like super short and rushed I’m sorry :(

Warnings: Swearing. It’s all just fluff.

Bada Lee x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Who am I?” Those were the first thoughts you had when you saw her. She was beautiful. Absolutely fucking captivating. Her tall stature made her seem unapproachable, but Bada was really just a giant puppy. Who were you? A contestant who was hopelessly in love with this woman. You were somebody that couldn’t have her, right? You pondered on that thought until you were reminded of the way her face would light up when she found your notes towards her. Your notes, not anybody else’s. Of course, she didn’t actually know it was from you, but let’s be honest. You’re way too obvious when you’re around her.

Tripping over nothing? Are you serious? Stuttering when you’re trying to impress her? Lord. Even if she was blind with no sense of anybody taking a liking to her, she would still know it was from you. Might as well write your name on them too. It wasn’t long until you remembered that did actually know.

The little glances towards you, along with the way she’d take any chance to be in contact with you…it made you keep going. You were glad you did, because you started receiving notes too. They weren’t much, but every single word that was written on them really brightened your day.

It would be stuff like “You look so beautiful today,” or funnier ones like “Your hair looks so good! (Please kiss me)” and “Tbh you shouldn’t let others perceive you in my honest, humble opinion that is not biased :)”

You especially loved those ones. Communicating through notes was good at first, but you craved her direct attention. You wanted her eyes on you, wanted her to smile while talking to you.

You’ve been recently feeling very courageous, sending more bold things her way. You’ve even left your lipstick mark on your newest letters. You figured since she basically already knew, might as well go up to her.

Your eyes were glued onto her as you walked up, ignoring the conversation she’s having. Which was a bit rude, but who knows when you’ll be this brave again. You took a deep breath as she turned to you, and swallowed harshly.

“H-“ Your voice cracked, embarrassing you even further. You both just stared at each other after that, with Bada trying not to laugh and you trying not to run away while looking at her blankly.

You didn’t try to speak again, but Bada thankfully spoke up. “Hey..” She smirked, holding in her laugh. Your voice was cute, and it still sounded cute with your voice crack. You were adorable. “How’s your routine going?” She asked, still smiling bright while trying not to laugh.

You swallowed again, threatening whichever higher being that existed to not let you embarrass yourself again. “It’s good…uhm it would’ve been better if you were there to help..” You coughed awkwardly.

Bada looked at you, slowly letting her smile brighten even more, if that was even possible. “Was that your attempt at flirting?” She said with a giggle.

You just looked at her and pursed your lips. “Anyways..” You said, turning your body around and walking away.

You heard Bada’s laughter behind you as it slowly got louder the closer she got. “Don’t run!” More laughter followed. “I thought it was cute, I pinky promise.” She grabbed your arm, turning you around to meet her twinkling eyes. “How about I teach you some stuff later? My studio is just around the corner.”

You looked up at her, letting a shy smile take over your face. “Are you sure that’s even allowed? You’re gonna get me kicked off this thing.” You say jokingly, avoiding her stare.

“I won’t let them. Don’t tell anybody but…you’re my favorite.” She leaned in to whisper jokingly, before she giggled.

Swallowing harshly, you finally met her eyes. “Okay..” You mumbled, still a little bit unsure. You felt her pat your head, subtly messing up your hair and running away as you noticed. “Hey! Bada??” You yell out, hearing her giggles down the hallway.

Sighing, you fixed your hair as you felt your heartbeat increase. Would she actually take the time out of her day to teach you? Are you guys just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been sending letters to each other? You laughed at that, not realizing how weird it sounded out loud.

You sat on the ground next to the set, realizing you don’t have her number nor do you have the location of her studio. “Am I a dumbass?” You laughed at yourself, probably looking crazy as hell. You were about to get up and wallow in your self pity as you walked home until you heard a motorcycle in the distance. It rolled up to you before slowly stopping. You were about to tell them to fuck off before they took their helmet off, revealing Bada.

“Are we in a movie?” Was the first thing you said. “This is the most cliche thing ever.” You continued saying, looking at her in disbelief. Her smile graced her face as she laughed. “Just get on, I promise it’s not that far.”

She handed you a helmet as you looked at her in even more disbelief. “Girl…” You mumbled, putting the helmet on and sitting behind her. She started off going slow before revving her bike and going faster. “How do you even know my head size? That’s very weird of you.” You yelled so she could hear you over the wind.

Silence followed, and you guess she might’ve not heard you. “…Next question.” You finally heard her mumble. You laughed, the arms holding her waist securely started to hug her tighter as you rested your head on her back despite the helmet. It was quiet the rest of the way, both of you just basking in the comfort of each other.

It wasn’t long before you made it to her studio. She was fast as she got off her bike, taking her helmet off before pulling you off too. You giggled despite yourself, loving how unnecessary that entire act was.

Bada played it cool after that. “Yeah I’m like super strong and stuff. I workout occasionally…you know.”

You looked at her. So much for playing it cool. You tried really hard to keep in your laugh, your face turning red and your eyes looking anywhere but her.

“Interesting…” You said while giggling subtly. “Yeah..” Bada said with an awkward cough. “Anyways, let’s go in.” She hurriedly switched the subject, ushering the both of you inside. Once you both settled your stuff, you looked at each other. “Soooo…” You looked around.

Bada looked at you sheepishly, looking kind of guilty. “To be honest, I only did this so I could spend time with you..” She mumbled, looking like a kicked puppy as she looked around.

Smiling, you sat on the floor facing the mirror. You patted the spot next to you. “So let’s get to know each other some more..”

Bada giggled again, looking like she just won a million bucks as she sat next to you. The night went on, as the both of you talked about anything. From favorite colors, to wondering if aliens exist, to theories about the multiverse.

“Do you think we’d meet in every universe?” You questioned. Bada looked at you, her eyes sparkling brightly as she took in you, your soul…your existence in her life. “I would hope so…I think you’re the only one I’d want to meet in every universe.”

She held your hand, interlocking your pinkies together as you guys giggle. “You're actually probably stalking me in every universe” Bada says jokingly.

You look at her with wide eyes and an offended expression. “Way to ruin the moment dummy..”

A/N: Tony Ann is so perfect to listen to whenever I write. Def check him out

[valentine-writes]

Hello hello! Been downright dying over how much I love your AtSV work!! So I thought I would feed into it >:) If you're feeling up to it, whats been brewing in your mind about The Spot x reader? Take it platonic or romantic, either has so much potential for fun in my opinion and I guess I'm just interested in what ideas you might have?? Not a lot to work off of from what I'm asking but I hope you're able to have fun with it anyways ^^; Whether youre able to get to this request or not, thanks for reading! Love what you do :)

collision.

「 tws + notes: possibly ooc, unedited, he's kind of pathetic little meow meowified im sorry, first bit inspired by @//submurged-into-clouds !! <3 ��

↳ ft. the spot

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

author's note: first, AUWJHEJSBS thank u so much!!!! im glad u like what i've written so far– and i am SUPER excited to write for the spot becuz im gon b real,,, there was a momentary lapse of insanity where i was scouring for any content of him at all. SO TY 4 UR REQ!!!! ( /)u(\ ) i hope this is ok!!! i got carried away and stuff so,, i hope this is at the Very Least coherent! leaned for platonic stuff with romantic undertones that intensify throughout so,, read it how u like ^_^

▸ we're going to start this by establishing that bro has literally No Friends anymore. you met him after the collider incident and by some miracle, some sort of mercy from a higher power in the multiverse– you ended up becoming friends with him

really, meeting him was an accident. wasn't supposed to be anything more– just him messing around with his new abilities and slipping into a random universe with no idea where he was.

and there was you.

just you. out, alone at night. just taking a walk– disrupted by someone falling out of a weird portal from the sky.

this is the day your paths crossed, the day your fates intertwined, the moment that your world collided into his.

to put more literally: the day he crashed into you very unceremoniously.

im now re-reading the title and remembering his backstory and giggling at my unintentional joke. he is not catching a break. even from me.

▸ after recovering from a random stranger from another universe tumbling into your own, you began to talk.

now– you don't remember how the conversation started, but you were glad to listen. the way which he rambled to you, words tumbling out of his mouth like they'd been on his mind for a while– you felt like he needed someone to hear him.

he's surprised. you're not bothered. not frightened. not even weirded out. but you're not indifferent. you nod along, you comment on things here and there– but you listen. you actually listen to him.

eventually, when he leaves, you're sat there for a moment. just frozen– processing whether that had really happened or not. you see the indent his body left in the grass where the two of you sat. it's evidence enough for you.

a few weeks pass and you're certain that you were just fated to meet once and never again. you were fine with this.

▸ until he randomly popped up in your living room one day.

yes, he had been actively trying to find your universe again– and as casually as he can be, is now peeking from out the portal he created, head leaning in to get a better look at you.

you're not sure how you can tell considering he has no face,,, but he's definitely smiling.

he waves to you, awkwardly, (noticing that you're just staring at him while not saying a word), "thought i would say hi, so– ...hi."

you blink at him tiredly. "dude, it's 6:30 in the morning–"

he's treating this like it's normal for people to just show up in your house. he missed you– and it's very evident.

▸ no matter what type of relationship you're in with him: you GOTTA set boundaries. being one of the only people who cares to hang around him anymore means that you're gonna be seeing a lot of him.

while he certainly hasn't completely lost grasp on the concept of privacy, it's definitely been altered by the fact he's got powers that allow him to pop up wherever he wants. he's just a teeny bit invasive.

"hello!" he'll greet, randomly poking his head through a portal he made to your bedroom.

on instinct, you throw the closest thing to you. he's just glad you reached for the pillow and not the alarm clock also at your arms reach on the bedside table.

definitely a good idea to remind him that if he wants to hang out, he should probably message you, and if he wants to show up at your house for whatever reason, he should give you a heads up.

he has nearly walked in on you changing. and has apologized a million times every time it's brought up. it fr keeps him up at night.

▸ everyone in his life leaving him def messed him up a bit. he can deny it all he wants, but he's terribly anxious that you're gonna grow tired of him and leave.

constantly like "oh my god what if they leave for someone who has a face" and itz like,,, boy,,,, stfu itz 3am

he needs reassurance, even if he never explicitly says. but you're kind to him. patient. you're pretty much an angel in his eyes.

which is why he feels comfortable texting u in the dead of night like:

(im gonna b real i dont even know why i have this image)

▸ he's dismissed by most people around him– but you've given him your time. you've shown him that you care. he's doing everything he can to be certain you'll still care for him.

the random waves of "oh no but what if they hate me" hit him HARD. especially if he hasn't seen you in a while, if you take longer to respond to his messages, if you haven't been answering his calls– bro will jump to a conclusion

"hypothesis: they dont love me anymore :("

☝️🤓 SORRY HAKJWOENDOEND he would NOT say that. im just clowning on him itz a part of my luv 4 him </3

needs to be needed. wants to be wanted.

eventually you have a long talk about this. he's got a bit of an ego after realizing how much power he truly possessed– but you gently encourage him to let it down. a simple heart to heart. and while you're certain these things aren't going to dissipate with a single conversation, you've let him know he doesn't have to deal with it alone.

▸ physical contact is a need for him. bro's touch starved. he likes linking his pinky with yours or just intertwining your fingers together. if you ever let him rest his head on your shoulder or hugged him he'd actually have to fight tears. he hasn't been given affection in a while :(

▸ he doesn't really feel like he has to hide anything around you. he really doesn't have much of a filter when you're talking to him which makes for some amusing conversation. he finds your laughter the sweetest sound in the world– he likes making you laugh :] it makes him feel like he's accomplished something

▸ the alterations to his body have caused some weird little changes that most people don't notice. one of them most noticeably to you– he'd cold. not frigid or like icy, but a lot colder than normal people tend to be.

you first notice this when you're hanging out in your bedroom. you're sitting on your bed, while he paces back and forth, rambling about another failed villainous act

(you haven't questioned his whole obsession with villainy considering that he seems pretty harmless with what he's been attempting– no matter how much he tries)

"and then– ohh, and tHEN THEY JUST—" you notice how he's gesturing frantically, exasperated, annoyed– and out of instinct to provide some sort of comfort (or at least calm him down) your hand grasps his wrist

there's a moment of silence.

his voice dwindles into a more soft, subdued tone, watching as your fingers wrap around his wrist. "wh– if you wanted me to stop talking, you could've just... just said or...."

his mind is going blank, trailing off at your touch. he doesn't remember the last time someone has held his hand or even brushed up against him without freaking out.

"you're cold." you comment, now taking his hand between both of yours, as if you were trying to heat him back up. you don't meet his eyes, simply staring at his hand.

"oh– yeah, yeah, it's just– a thing with now. came with the holes–"

the sensation of your hands gently squeezing his shuts him up. you raise his hand to your lips and gently blow hot air onto it.

your brow furrows, nose scrunching up. "you're still cold..." you mutter, more to yourself than to him. quietly, your gaze returns to his face.

"does that bother you?" you ask him, after a beat of silence.

he shakes his head. your hands let go of his– but he quietly reaches back to hold it again.

"hold on a second. why don't you try again?" he suggests. you laugh softly, knowing it's obviously just an excuse. still, you humor him.

[bubblesxo]

I love your fic!!! I fucking adore de-aged Bruce fics and Gotham!Bruce is such a fun way to go about it!! And oh, is there anything in particular you’re looking forward to writing with Bruce and everybody? Or anything you wanna share about the process? I’m super curious!!!

oh thank you so much!!! that means so much to me to hear <33 i'm really glad that you're enjoying the story! i agree, gotham!bruce is a really fun way to tackle the topic of bruce's youth.

i'm really excited to write more bonding between bruce and his kids, as well as some alfred and jim scenes coming up!! (of course, harvey will be making another appearance, don't worry! he's just basically in dix's position in gotham canon here---very knowledgeable, very seasoned, but a bit older at this point. he's happily retired with a wife, and is distinctly spending it away from gotham XD) this fic was made with family relationships in mind, so i'm excited for when bruce finally begins to trust them a bit and starts to care about them more. (as a sneak peak for the next chapter, i'll say now that damian makes an appearance very soon!)

speaking of alfred, i really need to lore drop about him more coming up.

anyway, one of my favorite things ever to include in the fic is bruce random lore-dropping. like, his family has NO IDEA about most of the stuff he casually says, it's just such good comedy fuel for me XD i need some comedy to offset the trauma that all of the characters have, after all!

i have some plot points coming up that i am so so so excited to write!!! more short-term, i have a character coming up that's been mentioned a few times in-fic already as a bit of foreshadowing. he's only in like one chapter atm but miiightt make an appearance later. *wink wink*

more middle-term, there's an arc coming up soon that is gonna be both angst and comedy gold. it includes a character who has been mentioned by name but not discussed haha. he's around for a while (meaning at least a few chapters as a very very prominent character and probably a few as more of a background character) and i know that people are probably gonna be super hype when i introduce him, especially from the time period i'm taking him from!!

finally, i have an important long-term plotline that's going to go on in the background for most of the fic. i was thinking about writing it in a bit more blatantly in about 4 chapters, but now looking at all of this written down, i think i'll shove that chapter into the next round and write something a bit more foreshadowy for now and less obvious. i don't wanna give the plot away too soon, after all! (if you try, you can probably guess the character i'm referring to here, though probably not his name...)

i'm thinking of doing a special babs chapter coming up to talk about her whole parentage thing in this ficverse, too! do you think that would be interesting to anyone? LOL

i also am going to start tying selina in more often in the future, which is going to be a ton of fun!! and looking back on all of this, i'm starting to worry about just *how long* this fic is going to be XD but hey, whatever! i'll go with my muse.

looking back on what i wrote, this seems to be suuuuper vague, and i'm sorry about that!! but mid-term and long-term ones are a bit of a surprise and a mystery, respectively, and i don't want to spoil the fun too much XD

thank you so much for the ask!! i love talking about things on here, especially my fic! feel free to send more asks if you ever feel like it<33 and of course thank you so much for reading and enjoying my fic !!<33

[foreststarflaime]

How about 2, 3, 11 and 23 for whichever members of AGSZC you feel like?

Oh boy you got it, ty for the ask!!! I’ll probably just do them all

2. Did you always like this character?

Angeal I did always like on some level. I loved the banter he has with Zack on the first mission to Tamblin so much! He is very funny and dad-shaped

Genesis I honestly do not remember my initial feelings towards, which means I probably didn’t hate him initially. I was probably between neutral and vaguely like I think?

Sephiroth…hm. My first exposure to him was just Remake, so I didn’t really have any of the backstory that makes me adore him. I thought he was a cool villain, very dramatic

Zack? ABSOLUTELY. I am victim to the puppy just as much as any of us

Cloud, oh yeah of course! He was my original favorite (him and Aerith), I loved that sad pathetic loser but kinda cool energy

3. What first drew you to this character?

“You’re a liiiittle more important than my sword. But just a little.” *most mischievous happy chuckle*

For Genesis it was him being a drama queen. Gotta love that flair. And I’m obsessed with books and trench coats too 🥹

For Sephiroth it was definitely how Crisis Core humanized him. I adore Sane!Seph <3

Zack’s puppylike charm and unquenchable optimism is so so endearing and I love characters who are like that

For Cloud it was honestly kinda the whole mysterious thing he had going on with the weird headaches. That boy was NOT okay and I needed answers

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

I’ll combine AGS on this one bc it’s very similar for all of them. Short answer, seeing all the little breadcrumbs of how human they were Crisis Core dropped in various places, and their chemistry with and love for each other. Reading fanfics with them in it only made that worse as I got to see more of that in fanon. Then I went on a massive fanfic binge and read anything I could get my hands on with any form of AGS content in it and now I am permanently addicted. Briefly, my favorite thing about each of them that grips me by the throat: Angeal’s instinct to keep his emotions bottled up inside, honestly I resonated with that. For Genesis it was his whole struggle—the desperate desire to just want to live, to be who he was and be happy. For Sephiroth it’s how deeply he cares for his friends.

For Zack, all I can say is just watching through Crisis Core and getting to follow his narrative. That was more than enough for me, I was ride or die for Zack by like the first 30 minutes in

For Cloud it was honestly pretty much just the same thing as Zack—getting to know him by seeing his story play out in Remake. I am an absolute sucker for characters who care about their friends as much as these guys do, and the weirder about it they are the better

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

YEP.

I mean all of them have, you’ve seen how much I post about them. I connect them with everything I see these days. Like every cute animal video, etc etc etc. It’s an addiction. And these are the first characters that actually motivated me to write the fanfics I had in my head down to post them. And they connected me to all of you guys—I was never really active on any social media until this fandom, and I’m so glad I finally did start interacting! But as for specific stories—

I’ve accepted I’m nonbinary for…oh close to a year now? It took going to Oxford and getting to try things out in a new environment for it to sink in. But anyways fast forward to this summer and me discovering and feverishly writing about the trans Genesis headcanon. I was writing the fourth chapter of Silence, and researching top surgery stuff for that, and while doing that research was when it finally hit me that I wanted to do that. Which was simultaneously terrifying and exciting. So thank you Genesis for helping me process my emotions enough to start having nervous breakdowns about that lmao

And then somewhat similarly I was writing this Sephiroth-centric sort of character study fanfic which was very much projection about struggles talking to people and having a hard time finding the words to say things, etc yknow the type of thing, which is when my wonderful qpp @fridgefanatic started clowning on me about that being an autism (or at least some flavor of neurodivergent) thing, which threw me down that rabbit hole faster so yeahhhh

[spidrgrl]

Heeeeyyyyy who’re your top three hs characters?

Woooooooo this is tough

Honorable mentions before my big top three: Nepeta, Aradia, Peregrine Medicant

My number 3 is

The Condesce! Aka Betty Crocker and the most recent empress. I like her a lot for some jokey reasons mainly to cope with stuff , but obviously there are some legitimate reasons I like her too! One is that she was soooooooo involved with the plot/really developed and such a good villain. Sadly tho she wasn't given many pages for herself, and she died so fast in the comic!

Most humans never got to be able to witness the true MENACING AURA and reign of terror this woman had! I'm partially very glad for that, but also quite sad. On my planet, at least in my universe, all empresses were the most documented trolls EVER so it's so weird for people to not know much about her.

I can't not give her credit for being one of the most infamous trolls of all time. So she deserves her spot on the podium, but of course, she's last! In the end all she truly was is a really old elite troll with so much power, SO MUCH, at her fingertips, it seems!!!!!!!! Thank you Condesce for your tyrannical and cunty rule, now we can all take a nice piss on your grave.

My number 2 is

Kanaya! Oh, Kanaya. I had to take a long ponder about who was best for this spot, and it was either her or Aradia. Canonically, Kanaya's more developed and stuff in source, so I thought my yapping would make more sense if it was about her. Plus she's awesome. Sorry Aradia!!!!!!!!

Despite everything that happened to her (including. 6 sweep old me........), she was and always will be so STRONG. She's so badass in ways I don't think most could ever DARE to match! She sacrificed so much, she deserved that happy ending with Rose (HOMESTUCK^2/BEYOND CANON CAN SUCK MY BULGE. THEY DESERVE TO BE HAPPY.)!!!!!!!!

Out of all of the characters from Homestuck, her character was treated with such grace. I'm pretty sure almost all of stupid Hussie's good writing went into her. Almost.

Which brings me to my number 1.

Terezi.

Obviously, I am biased, but it doesn't matter. Terezi was THE BEST in my honest opinion; in source, in memories, and even irl, she's the best troll I've ever known. She deserves her rightful #1 spot on my podium no matter what.

I'm so glad to have met her, even with what I've done to her and what she's done to me in the past, she always will be my favorite and always will have her name on my pale diamond.

This is mainly directed towards my Terezi in another sys that I'm moirails with! She's the best and I love her <> ::::)

Anyways, biggest yap sesh yet on this blog over!!!!!!!! Ty for asking btw anon

[bluedalahorse]

Ahh I'm glad you made it home finally! I didn't see you had already posted the wip game when I tagged you oops. Would love to hear more about your saraugust under the influence of blucifer idea if you'd like to share!

Happy to share! @margotdanslebois also asked this, so I am answering for her as well.

So to be clear, it was not Sara and August under the influence of Blucifer. It was me, as this was just fanfic I was dreaming about while trapped in the Denver Airport the other day. No joke the Denver Airport is watched over by a demonic-looking horse called Blucifer. And then I thought about my bluedalahorse username and I was like… what’s the lore here? Is Blucifer my weird giant cousin from the mountains? Is Blucifer the spirit that possesses me when I want to write absolute id-driven fanfic?

I didn’t come to an answer, but I did let my id write some fanfic, even if it stayed mostly inside my head. Hence this sounding like nebulous daydreaming.

Anyway, Swell the Numbers and my road trip fic are in the same timeline, and that got me wondering about things that happen in the intervening years. And I just started thinking about vignettes that could happen during that time.

I think August may have been diagnosed with ADHD, among a few other things, during the mental health treatment he gets during Swell the Numbers. This eventually leads him to Sara’s life with AuDHD vlog, and he watches a few of her videos and really values the information he’s getting from her, but tries not to watch them too much because otherwise it’s too easy for him to be swept up in ~the yearning~ and he has a smart enough therapist to point that out. But the algorithm also leads August to see more stuff that’s actually helpful for him, so that’s positive!

There’s also small interactions Sara and August have in between Swell the Numbers and road trip fic, because August and Wille are working to maintain family ties with one another and therefore August is trying to repair/build anew things with Simon (in part through vulnerable honest conversations and in part through dungeons and dragons) and Sara and Simon still love each other and such. So Sara and August are crossing paths on occasion—especially around holidays when they’re both seeing their family. They’re figuring out how to have conversations without it being awkward. Much.

At one point, it looks like Sara might get a book deal because of her vlog, but that doesn’t end up panning out, and August says he would have bought her book, and Sara says she would have signed it for him. Sara’s still figuring out how she feels when she learns about August’s ADHD diagnosis. It’s confusing but it’s not all bad confusing.

Anyway, they’re navigating their 20s, and also, because dreaming brains are Like This, they still have sex dreams about one another. (At which point I’m adding the nsfw part behind a cut here, shh.)

One feature of this timeline is that Sara has experimented with kink a bit more, and maybe August hears about it and dreams about Sara tying him up and doing what she wants to him? And since they have just had that conversation about book signing, in the dream Sara’s writing all over him too, and it kind of hurts but it also feels kind of great?

Meanwhile I am always here for historical clothing, so I feel like Felice and Sara go see like a rococo art exhibition or something during the holidays. And then that night Sara’s sex dream involves August going down on her while she’s in her Valentine’s ball dress? She wakes up and she’s like, huh, haven’t thought about the Valentine’s ball in years. Also maybe in the dream she was sitting on a swing, because the rococo and all.

Look you all. Sometimes I am stuck in an airport and must occupy my brain with character thoughts. THANK YOU BLUCIFER FOR SANCTIONING THESE VISIONS.

[languajix]

So this isn’t rlly an ask but I just was thinking abt your answer abt Don’s powers for your hold very memory au! And I was wondering, if Don’a current powers are connection does this mean he could also potentially temporarily borrow powers from the other turtles he’s connected too? Also once again love your au!

Thank you, so much! I'm so glad that you enjoy HEM and that it's sticking with you enough to be sending over these asks - I appreciate that immensely and it makes me really, really happy; I know I sat on this ask for a bit, but there's a reason. :D

Anyways, these are really good questions and I do have some thoughts:

(Watch me describe my own series like I'm a theorist; I really am indecisive and not very good at planning ahead, ha)

Right now, I'm almost positive his 'connection' abilities would include telepathy, empathy, an instinctive knowledge of the people he's tying together - a handful of generally subtle things that aren't really helpful for combat. If the connections, the threads, can carry not just consciousness, thoughts, feelings - but energy itself, then... that does open up a lot of possibilities.

I grew up on shounen anime like Bleach and Naruto. Does the idea of Don being able to do cool stuff with all the kids' powers appeal greatly to me??? Absolutely, no question. Case closed.

I do, however, consider the kids unlocking their ninpo to be a power boost. I think connecting with that endless well of energy brings them up to a higher tier of power, higher than most people can reach with their natural mystic potential. Don's kids are going to eclipse him completely, leave him in the dust, and I kind of like that, really. As a kind of clumsy metaphor for kids growing up and leaving home and reaching greater heights than their parents and all that stuff. Even though Don does not want them to ever have to fight, his kids are going to be darn good at it.

(And that does bring up the question as to whether or not Hamato abilities are inherited by blood or by genuine familial affection - I lean towards it being a genetic sort of thing. Especially for Hold Every Memory, I think. Just because someone doesn't have access to the Hamato ninpo doesn't mean they're not part of the family. April, Casey Jr, Draxum; they're all Hamato to some extent, ninpo or no. So, if Don were capable of drawing mystic energy from the kids, if they left that metaphorical spigot on so he could draw further still to the well of ninpo beyond, that would probably be the only way he could access that kind of power at all.)

I'm not sure that giving Don access to the kids' powers is something I want to do, narratively speaking, but oh man would that be awesome. And I'm not opposed at all to exploring the possibility of him being able to do those sorts of things regularly in some sort of side story, or seeing someone else play around with it. (I do think he'd need to practice with them, first - the Rise turtles had to learn their way around their powers, they're not instinctive. Especially so, I'd think, for Don, whose innate talents are not chains or portals or mystic projections, so he's starting from a lower point to begin with.)

It's a fun thing to think about, that's for sure! (And I may have... done more than just think about it. Should be up in a few minutes. Hope you like it!)

[misc-obeyme]

hi ur writing is literally amazing can i ask u some stuff regarding it/how you go about writing/advice? feel free to ignore this if its not something youre comfy with

were u ever nervous to post fic? i just posted my first one and am like. super embarrassed (i also have a Guilt Complex that influences that lmao). if so, did you find it easier as you kept writing?

also how the hell do you write endings/get the motivation for them? youre really good at tying things together nicely at the end (or the occasional Leave 'Em Wondering) and im curious about your process for it. i can pretty steadily get up to the scene i started the fic to write but after that brain and motivation go honk mimimi

anyways thank you for sharing your work with the internet! i love reading your stuff its always a highlight in my day :)

Hi there, anon!

So first of all, I absolutely LOVE questions about writing, so please always feel free to send me any you may have! I'm such a nerd, I really love talking about the process and I'm happy to discuss it or share advice and so on!

Secondly, omg you're so sweet! Thank you, I'm so glad you like my writing!

Now then, lemme answer your questions! I apologize in advance for the LENGTH of these answers, but I seem to be incapable of writing about this sort of thing without it turning into an entire essay.

Yes, absolutely, I was extremely nervous when I first starting posting my fics. Some of that may have been that I hadn't written fic in a while and I was nervous enough about sharing, but I was extra nervous about messing up characterization. I wasn't used to writing for characters that I didn't create myself. I got nervous again when I started posting smut, too lol.

The thing about this type of anxiety in general is that exposure therapy really is the cure. It's like that for a little bit at first, but the more you do it, the more you prove to yourself that it's no big deal. Nowadays, I have almost no anxiety when I'm posting something fluffy and even most smut pieces are easier for me to post, too.

Another piece of this is remembering that the reason you write fic is for your own enjoyment. You're putting it on the internet on the chance that someone else might like it, too. But really, you have to focus on the things that make you happy. It's easier to deal with posting anxiety if you keep your focus on the joy of creation rather than the adrenaline of sharing. It's hard to do, but it gets easier the more you do it!

Okay, so endings! Uh, here's a fun fact about me, endings are my weakness lol. I have a lot of practice starting things and then never ending them because I absolutely get bored at a certain point. So I know exactly what you mean by the brain going to honk mimimi land.

For me, the trick was to write short stuff. Most of my fics are just scene length. This allowed me to get some practice with writing more endings because I didn't get bored when I was pretty much just writing one scene. So I found a couple things that I like to do for endings specifically, but then I also discovered a way to sort of keep my brain engaged while writing longer stuff.

It kinda all comes down to what you want to leave the reader with. That final paragraph or sentence can really deliver an impactful emotion. So you kinda have to think about what the rest of the scene is about, what specific feeling do you want the reader to have when they get to the end? If you're not sure, you can also frame it as what kind of feeling do you want to have at the end?

One technique I like to use is tying everything back to the beginning. I've used it multiple times, but it's probably most obvious in this Barbatos drabble. The first and last sentences are the same, but you don't have to be that blatant about it lol. That was mostly a stylistic choice. But if you look at the third paragraph and the last paragraph, they are parallels of each other, but they're different. What they convey is that something has changed by the end. So by repeating pieces of the beginning at the end, I'm deliberately illustrating what changed in the middle.

It's like thinking of the ending as a sort of summary of everything that happened in the middle of the story. If you're writing something longer, you can apply this to individual scenes as needed. But you might end up with an entire scene at the beginning and an entire scene at the end that do the same thing (rather than a couple of paragraphs).

Another thing I like to do is leave an implication of further action that isn't included. Something like "You wouldn't leave his room until morning." or maybe "You had a feeling something like this would happen again soon." Like this isn't really the end, but the rest is up to your imagination!

This is more specifically about the last paragraphs/scene/sentence, though. It's good to think of a way to recall the entirety of the story you just told, leaving the reader with the overall feeling you were going for.

But when it comes to longer stories, if you're finding you make it to one scene and then stop, well, that might be the end of your story. For this kind of thing, it really helps me to think about what the end game of the story is. For instance, in my longest fic, The Threads That Bind, I knew it was a Barbatos x MC love story. So the "end" couldn't happen until they had confessed their feelings to each other. A lot of other stuff happened before that, but it all contributed to that final plot point. And there isn't much story after that. The final scene is their confession. (There is a spicy epilogue, but that was just a bonus lol.)

So if you can decide before you even start writing what the goal is, you can write to that goal, filling in a bunch of cool scenes along the way. It doesn't have to be that you know exactly what happens or what the final scene is. When I started writing Threads, I had no idea how the confession was going to go. I just knew that Barbatos and MC had to end up declaring their love somehow.

But I tied that into the rest of the story with the theme of the threads. It was a visual anchor as well as a metaphorical one - magic let them see threads binding them together, but the feeling of belonging to each other was kind of the point of it all. So I was able to take that concept that I'd already used and incorporate it into the final confession scene.

NOW THEN all of this might also be easier if you're an outline type of person, but I most definitely AM NOT. Other writers swear by an outline and you'll probably find a lot of information on how to use one if you Google it.

But outlining for me is like pulling teeth, so I never do it. I write my first draft in a fever dream, with the end goal and a handful of ideas about overall themes and a couple things that I just think would be cool or fun to write. I spend a lot of time daydreaming about the story first, too, but I don't write anything down until I'm writing that first draft.

I could probably write a whole book on my methods for writing, but my biggest piece of advice for this kind of thing is EXPERIMENT.

The best part about writing is that aside from the basic fundamentals (spelling, grammar, sentence structure, etc), there are NO RULES. So if you're finding you're always struggling with finishing, try out anything and everything that might help you with that. Try writing outlines, try not writing outlines, try ending your story with the scene you were working toward, try thinking of a new scene you want to write as the ending scene. If it works, great! If it doesn't work, no problem! Just chuck it and try something else.

Sometimes the best thing for me to do is to ask myself what would be the most fun to write next? And then just going for it. My opinion is that you can always edit things later!

Anyway, I hope some of that helps! I'm sorry I really rambled quite a bit, but like I said, I love talking about this kind of thing lol.

Good luck, anon, and I believe in you!

[samioli]

hi, I wanted to give you a lil update. So I had messaged you like, almost a month ago because I asked out a guy I had a crush on, and he said he was interested but not right now because of health problems.

so I still don't have a 100% conclusive like, answer of when it will be the right time. but I do believe he is interested. we've hung out a couple of times since the night I asked him out. he is one of my friends and we have done board game days still like our group regularly does. he has given me a couple of hugs and is always very nice and sweet. he has also been texting me more even though he's not good at texting typically.

anyway the reason I write this today is because yesterday we went to the ren faire. It was 6 people total and I drove 4 of us. It was me and him, and then in the backseat my younger brother and one of his friends. my two best friends drove separately. we met up and we mostly stayed as a group but broke into pairs a few times. also, almost all of us were dressed up. I have a pirate outfit I've been perfecting lol.

anyway again getting to the point (I could ramble on with background and setting and stuff forever). I needed help with my corset, and was going to ask my brother but he was a bit busy with his costume. so my sweet lovely big guy crush sees me struggling and offers to help and I swear I was so red I could've just exploded on the spot. like hello, that's my boobs being propped up in this low cut pirate shirt and you're right there helping me and gah. I'm blushing just recounting it tbh!!!

and he was just a huge sweetheart all day. ever offering assistance, making goofy jokes, and just generally being a good guy and a good friend. I am so smitten apparently. we drove back kind of late into the evening, and listened to my playlist until I offered him to play whatever he wanted. he has great music taste and we're constantly sharing with each other. he was excited and it is delightful hearing him lowly singing along to the songs he knows and loves. so I kind of. told him that. and he thought it was sweet and said he liked it when I was singing with him too which like. I'm normal. I'm just glad that it was dark with again how red I must have been from blushing.

as we got close to his house to drop him off, I said "look I have a confession. I think I've been remarkably normal" which is a very funny and normal thing to say. I explained that I was trying not to have my behavior be uncomfortable or put any pressure on him, but I did buy him a flower from one of the wandering flower vendors at the faire and I was hoping that he would accept it. Tati, he was so sweet about this. He was like "for me?" I said "I think you deserve flowers. And yellow ones for some reason remind me of you a bit" so he took when i dropped him off and gave me a big hug and said "thank you for everything today" and looooook. I do think I've been remarkably normal considering he is like. on my mind. a LOT.

anyway, his health stuff is doing a bit better, because he's had some appointments at the beginning of the month. they're still figuring out what to do besides just wait and make sure the worst of the symptoms don't come back again, but the most concerning symptoms went away recently and he felt up to ren faire. plus we sat on like, all the benches to take a break.

my favorite word is apparently anyway, but I will here instead transition by saying I hope you've enjoyed my silly rambling crush story and I hope you're rooting for us as much as I am. I am going to talk to him again about it in like another month and see where things are at and such. but wow. uh, I just really wanted to gush out a lil like 'update' because I appreciate your advice and wisdom when I sent you that ask a while ago. I am still overthinking about it all the time. I kind of love him. If it wasn't obvious heehee. ty for reading

Anon. I'm so so happy to hear this update. I don't really have much to say other than

I'm rooting for you two!!!!

[elytrafemme]

Dear mare,

i feel like its appropriate for me to write in letter format considering. yk. the whole prince thing. but anyway i think its fun! also the reason i have not replied is because im on vacation, forgive pls :p

life is eh, as usual, but at least the gender issues have died down a bit.

i missed you a lot actually, it was really wierd cause i would tell my irl friends abt ppl i met on tumblr, and u were jut a very significant part of that list!

i did want to ask how has ur life been? its been a very tough past few weeks with all the stuff on twtter, so i hope ur taking care!!!

with lots of love,

prince anon

ps : im going to re-read cough syrup just cause i miss being 2 years younger :')

HI PRINCE ANON!! sorry im delayed :3 and no need to apologize as we all can tell i am clearly very bad at responding to things promptly if at all

im glad the gender issues r dying down!!!! i missed u too :( i always talk about my online life with people espec since my college friends are pretty receptive to it but that is super sweet :]

ty for asking i'm doing pretty good! i'm on a good streak of days right now, it's obviously pretty torrential just in my life generally but i've got a bunch of good people in my life and some fun events happening so like. things are good and hopeful

love u lots!!! <333 (thank u so much :') )

[valiantroeagleangel]

OMG HEHEHE THANK YOU AWWW YOU’RE SO SWEET 🥹💗

here’s my prompt!! could you do a fic where the reader and Justin are talking about things they want to try and the reader shares that she likes being tickled? and then they have a little tickle fight (bc oh my god Justin giggling and getting tickled would be so ADORABLE i am FERAL RN IM SO SORRYW HSWVHE) before he focuses on tying the reader up and tickling her to pieces 😍

just for some more deets!!! im a huge fun of playful teases (like for example commenting on how much i love it, them being excited about it, anything teasy I’m IN!) also for me this is like a half sexual/half comforting thing if that makes sense?? like genuinely I just fucking adore being tickled and it makes me so happy, but it’s also a turn on that’s awesome in a sexual setting too! basically if it could be fluff and smut that would be so lit!!! my favorite thing about it too is when the ler (person doing the tickling) is having fun doing it!

ok apologies that this got long HAHA, please don’t hesitate to ask any questions I’ll return to the inbox with answers! i really appreciate you being open to this and I’m so excited to see what you write, it will be incredible no matter what!!!! (if you’d ever be up for it I might come back for a vinny fic someday, but we’ll focus on this one bc holy moly justin is sexy as hell) ok thank youu byeeee!!!!

- 😽👻 (im so glad you like my sign off HEHE)

Babe here me out: I LOVE THIS IDEA. I'm really into the tickling kind of stuff, not gonna lie lmao. So yes it does make sense, at least to me. And don't apologize for it getting too long I love it and I love how you described it so well.

(come on don't tease me a Vinny fic I'm excited now, I WANT TO NOW WHAT'S ON YOUR MIND.)

Anyway I'm working on this tickling idea for you, so excited to write it and post it honestly.

XOXO

[nitannichionne]

Ransom's Redemption (Chris Evans Fanfiction), Chapter 23: The Party

I take a deep breath when I knock on Fiona's door, and brace myself. Memories of previous parties before jail run through my head, and I am still not sure if I should even be here. Half the things we did in those days were against the law. 

The door swings open and I smile to see Fiona holding a not a glass but a bottle of champagne. "You got the champagne I sent!"

"Oh, my God, I thought that meant you weren't coming!" she says dramatically. "Welcome home, baby!"

"Hey!" I say with more excitement than I'm feeling. I look around and it's the same as I remember: everybody laughing and drinking and what not. I would have jumped into this like a pool before, but I'm seeing it differently now.  I look around and see all the usual suspects, and I smile and wave at them. 

"Long time, no see!"

I turn to see Jack Christopher, a guy I knew from school. "What's up, Jack!"

"Hey, Ransom!" Jack rises to shake up with me. "Man, good to see you."

"Good to see you, too."

"I was really sorry to hear about...you know." He shrugs. 

"It was stupid." I tell him, responding with a shrug of my own.

"Glad you're out, though."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Hear you're married?"

"Yeah, and expecting."

"Holy shit," Jack's eyes go wide. "Congrats, man."

"Thanks."

"Drink?" she offers her bottle.

"Yeah, got my eye on something right now." I nod, looking at the bar. I get a bottle of European beer I recognize and haven't had in years. I pop the cap and take a swallow, the stuff making my insides tingle as I drop on the sofa. "Wow, it's been awhile since I had something like this!"

"You gotta live a little!" Paul calls from the corner of the room.

I laugh at that, and raise my bottle. "To livin' a little!" Paul smiles widely and raises his glass.

"Whoo!" Fiona cheers. "That's my Ran!"

I flinch inwardly at that. I'm not her Ran. I jokingly flash my ring when she throws her arms around me.

"Awww," she pouts. "you're all grown up and married, now, huh?"

"It had to happen sometime, Fi." 

"Yo, Dry!"

"Yo, Bet!" I call back to Matthew Betman. "Still spending your days at the track?"

"Sometimes!" He laughs, clapping my shoulder. "I play the market more."

"Got any tips?" 

"Maybe," he says slyly. "What's this I hear about you tying the knot?"

"It's true, man," I grin.

"Yeah, you married your assistant--"

"Also my childhood sweetheart," I say.

"Thought that was Fi."

"Fi was later." I sit to enjoy my beer.

"Too late, I guess," She says with an eyeroll.

"But I thought we'd do it together," she went on, drawing patterns on my chest.

I give a small smile and shrug. "I was never your Prince Charming, anyway."

She puts her head on my shoulder. "Oh, but I wanted you to be."

I look down at her, and see real sadness. It is probably the liquor but I get the feeling that she means what she is saying.

I look at Paul and he is smiling at us, remembering how we used to be. I decide to bust his bubble. "So, how long are you going to be here, man? We got a serious shoot tomorrow."

He makes a face at me. "It'll get done."

"Hey, Paul!" a guy calls from the bathroom. "You in or what?"

Paul raises his eyebrows at me, and I shake my head with a smile. I suddenly tense: the bathroom. I watch him walk across the room and pass the guy who called him over. Through the somewhat open door, I see people are huddling together doing lines of coke. Forgot about that. Well, that's it for me. If I am caught here, I can go back to jail, and I'm not even getting high.

The door closes and I realize how much I have changed. I would have been the first one in there years ago. That door is closed.

"Well, enjoy the champagne," I say brightly.

"Leaving so soon?" Fiona asks.

"Yeah, got to start and finish early so I can get home," I tell her. "I hear a storm's coming, and I don't want to be stuck here."

"Oh, okay," She walks me to the door. "If you are, you can come here, you know."

"I know," I say softly, and kiss her forehead. "Congrats."

"Same to you," she purrs. "Happy holidays."

I raise my bottle of beer to her in thanks, and leave. I wasn't there long and didn't need to be. I call Calida.

"Back from the party already?" she asks. She sounds impressed.

"Uh...yeah."

"Uh....yeah?"

"Paul...he..." I exhale. "I don't know if he will make it tomorrow."

"Okay."

I frown at her tone. "Okay?"

"I have a backup plan."

I feel uneasy. I know that this means that Calida has another photographer somewhere. "Paul was the one who found out about--"

"Paul marketed you and me," Calida says dismissively. "He was just taking pictures."

"He's a friend--"

"This is business," Calida interjects softly. "Look, don't you want to go home? I do. It was nice to see you again, but we didn't come here to party, right?"

I sigh. Calida was always a force to be reckoned with. "If he comes--"

"Then we will have two photographers and an even better chance at finishing this thing."

[crescentfool]

I love your blog it sparks joy :)

ANON HELLO????? i got ur message last night and damn im about to keel over from kindness (again, to no one's surprise, lmao). seriously!!! thank you so much!

i know that this ask has a similar sentiment to the one that i just answered- but i can't help but reiterate... thank you for the incredibly sweet words!

i really enjoy being here on tumblr, it's slow-paced and chill, and the tagging system is BLESSED (god do i love when people say stuff in tags).. so i'm really happy that my blog can be a part of that positive experience for you! i do what i can to make this corner of the internet a brighter place- so knowing that it's reached you makes me truly happy. seriously!! thank you so much.

i hope that whatever you're doing right now makes you happy anon!! thank you for stopping by the inbox- you keep being you anon! im support u and appreciate ur words sm 🥺💙

[luckydragon10]

Hello Nemi 💞

I hope this ask finds you in a good health!

Before I start screaming about the chapter (whew and i have some very incoherent, illegible thoughts about it) let me thank you.

Thank you for launching this delight of a ghost ship, thank you for writing this story that was so kind and loving and let Tay hurt and let him heal in his own time.

I am so grateful I could be here for every update and although the story still will have more fics written it is technically completed so, I'm glad to be here for the end.

I have told you many times how I love and appreciate how you let Tay heal and become his own person here but what I really love is how by loving Tay you made him love himself too, you gave him all this space of love for him and it can be felt in every scene, how just beloved he is, not only by the characters but also by the writer and idk it just makes me want to hug you very badly.

I appreciate how you handled the theme of first and last loves. Because the fic was mostly about it. About Tay getting over his first love, Kinn getting to be with his first love and Porsche the lucky bastard having two of those.

No but I love how they are presented

Like Porsche with the sweetness of the first loves, of both that intense burning and the comfortable quiet love. He gets the privilege of never knowing how if feels to get over one.

And then Kinn with his first love being Tay (i love that it's not Tawan, like YEAH FUCK HIM EVEN FURTHER), it's that feeling of almost sometimes at the beginning, the kind of love that could have been, the first one, the experience that shaped you and stayed with you, a love that is always sort of there even if both of you move on to another people because there is always a part of you that belongs to that person, a kind of love that you gave a part of your heart to and never took it back

And then Tay with his learning how to move past his first love. The love that shaped him for so long and I cannot just tell you how much I cried at the Time-Tay talk because I'm so proud of Tay for coming along so far. Cycles are so fucking hard to break and I'm glad he broke this one, he deserves it.

So yeah, I laughed, I screamed and I cried to this story and I loved every part of it, thank you for writing it Nemi 💞

Now onto my incoherent thoughts (today we have less because honestly I cannot state how much mind blowing this smut was)

First, all the love for Yok and Yok-Tay interaction was not something i thought i needed but i got anyway and I'm so fucking glad I did because oh my god, give me more please

Also yes YOK DESERVES ALL THE SONS

Second,

NEMI YOU KINKY LITTLE DEMON I LOVE YOU

Just the possessive Kinn, the needy Porsche, the teasing ahhhhhhh

Like I loved the idea of Porsche and Kinn telling Tay what they are up to

Oh also the make-up scene - doing someone's make up can be such a personal and horny thing and we should really embrace it more

Also I loved the mention of every date 🥺

And oh my, when you got Porsche to dirty talk in the car I was like !!!!!!

And then Kinn tying Porsche up and oh my god just Porsche being only able to watch I'm 🥴🤤

Tay getting just all the love poured into him as he deserved was what I absolutely needed

OH MY GOD TAY SANDWICH LIKE THAT IMAGE WILL LIVE WITH ME FOREVER

TAY FUCKING PORSCHE, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god

I just ahhhhh enzisjsjsn

I am so very- just

Not articulate about this chapter but good fucking delicious smut, I loved it, it was emotional and loving and kinky and hot ahhh 💕💞💓

Anyway thank you for writing this chapter!

I hope you have a good day/night Nemi 💞

The fic in question: Last Loves

👉👈🥺You're welcome, but let me assure you, no thanks are needed. I just reaaallly wanted this OT3 to be a thing and to share fun stuff with people, and I'm SO ridiculously gratified that some people hopped on the ship! Besides, every fandom deserves an especially strong OT3.

And yessss, I adore Tay and just wanted to give him some space to come into his own! He's been hurting a lot time, and honestly he needed to get out long ago, and he kept making the choice not to leave. But I didn't want to punish him or Time for their bad choices -- I just want them to grow.

I appreciate how you handled the theme of first and last loves.

Funny thing, but when I was in the middle of writing Last Loves, I came across a post somewhere that ranted that not enough fic writers tackle non-first-love relationships. And I was like... heh. I got this.

And everything you describe about the relationships is SOOO GOOD. I like threesomes that feel whole, complete, and like each relationship stands on its own merit. Thank you for digging into how I decided to present the relationships in Last Loves!

Haha, Yok's non-advice to Tay. 🤣 You know, sometimes the best "advice" is just sympathy/empathy.

And MUAHAHAHAHA, yessss, very much with the kinkiness in chapter 4. 😍 I just wanted to have some fun with it.

As for the makeup scene, that was actually requested by @iffervescent, so you have her to thank for it!

Hehe, I like the idea that with Kinn and Porsche, Tay is going to discover how much he loves the switch life. Because sometimes you want a little of this, and sometimes you want a little of that, right?!

THANK YOU FOR YOUR DETAILED READ-REACT, DOM! ILU

[literaila]

hi i have a fic request: the reader and spencer were dating and instead of emily dying the reader “died”. and during the time that the reader was presumed “dead”, spencer met maeve and they started dated and everything and when the reader came back there was a ton of tension and awkwardness. and after maeve dies the reader comforts spencer and like they grow closer and get together? ty ily<3

the art of knowing 

spencer reid x gn! reader 

warnings: criminal minds themes, angst, fluff, death. all that fun stuff. 

a/n: its four am. i take no credit for any of this. thank you for the request, my love. 

*

he couldn't let go of that tiny piece of paper.

vaguely, he thought it might smell like you, still.

through the ceremony, through the tears, the stains on the vinyl flooring that everyone was walking on, the fresh grass, and the silence that followed when everyone had said goodbye-- he just couldn't let it go.

it was just a small piece of paper. a hastily scrawled-out letter to him, from you, that was on something only slightly bigger than a sticky note. he knew the words by heart, and even if he didn't, he could’ve guessed what it said.

he knew as soon as he saw it on his desk, as soon as he noticed the lone flower, the organization of the flies he’d left sprawled out. he knew that you’d been there, and he knew that you were gone. how could he not have known?

he couldn't get the question out of his head, and he couldn't get this paper out of his hand.

“goodbye, spencer” was quite possibly the last thing he would ever hear from you.

no, it was. he knew that.

god, he was sitting at your funeral, watching other people cry over you. he’d been asked to say something and he’d refused because you wouldn't want him crying on some podium in front of everyone else. because he wanted to save that for when he got home. he knew all of these things, and yet he still didn’t understand.

he had to face the truth, teach himself the reality.

he was still clutching the paper when derek came over, when he offered spencer a hand on the shoulder, his never-ending support.

spencer was trying to wipe away any hint of water that might be left on his face even though he knew that it would only irritate his eyes more. that he would cry some more today anyway.

“i’m sorry,” derek said instead of asking him what everyone else had asked him today. as if there was a difference in the responses they might get.

“you didn't do anything,” spencer said instead of telling him that he’d already said that. that he already knew. that he was sorry too.

“i didn't do enough,”

“there wasn't anything else you could do.” spencer didn't know why he was reassuring him, but, at least it distracted from the flowers everyone was laying on the ground.

“reid…”

spencer stood up, he clutched the paper in his hand harder, willing himself not to think of those last words again. he didn't look at derek, but he didn't walk away. his body was numb, his fingers felt like nothing. withdrawal, he could have told you. this is what heartbreak was. withdrawal from chemicals he’d grown dependent on.

but somehow, the science wasn't enough.

“i feel like i should have known,” he whispered, letting his eyes sting again. he didn't have the energy it would take to blink the tears away.

“known what?”

the scoff that followed the question was anything but kind. “two years. two years spent with y/n and i didn't even get the chance to know-” he could feel the words leaking out of his chest, flowing like blood, like there wasn't enough pressure. “a whole different life i didn't even know about.”

he was mad. he was so angry. he felt so guilty, but he couldn't feel anything but mad at the little piece of paper in his hands. the goodbye you had known he would need.

“we all have secrets,” derek said, another reassurance that just made spencer want to scream.

“yeah, and i’m supposed to know everything.”

it was just a tiny piece of paper. it wasn't you, it wasn't anything like the person he had known. you had died, you were dead, and you had died someone that spencer had never even known.

really, how couldn't he have known?

*

he’d known about addiction long before that day. long before he could ever properly understand what it was-- that you could be addicted to a person, too.

but, he also knew, he learned, that you could stop it. that you could put addiction in a drawer far away and move on with your life-- that you would take it out sometimes, just to look at it, and still it would be okay. that you could have more than just a second chance.

he knew that, now, then, before all of this, even.

spencer was a genius, and he knew now how grief worked. he knew how the passing of time could really heal a person.

he knew that he was falling in love with a voice.

that there were multiple stages to addiction.

and one of those was leaving you behind.

*

he… he didn't know who this person was.

he didn't, he just didn't understand who was standing in front of him, who was there, why you were standing there right in front of him.

awkwardly smiling.

you didn't exist anymore. not to him-- not to anyone. you were dead, you were sitting in the ground somewhere, you were a ghost flying above his head, telling him it was okay to move on.

you were there, standing in front of him.

he didn't know you. he didn't know those eyes, and he didn't know that smile, and he didn't know who he was when you were here. he didn't know how you were here.

so he asked.

“how?” he swallowed, tried to get that dried feeling out of his mouth.

“y/l/n’s identity was strictly ‘need to know’ and Paris was a safe place to be reassigned until their security was assured.”

apparently, it was now because you were standing in front of him.

you were standing in front of him, and he wasn't addicted to you anymore. he didn't care, and he couldn't feel anything, even when he willed himself to. he felt like the corpse, like he was the one who was burried in the ground-- like you were supposed to be. 

but, no. no, because you were alive and he felt nothing.

and when you spoke, his heart didn't race. when he looked at your eyes, he didnt even classify them as familiar. they were something else, you were something else. 

he knew beause he had your last words memorized, and these certainly weren't them.

and god, he certainly didn't know you.

*

it didn't take long to understand. not for you, who had known spencer better than you’d known anything before. not for you, who used to study his face, watch his expressions until you got bored-- just for fun.

it didn't take long to understand that something had changed, to see the difference in the air between the two of you. to feel it. 

there was something different in his eyes, and, something had changed. even from the first moment he looked at you, that first pass of his eyes, even then. you knew. 

how couldn’t you know? 

they were different-- the brown, the swirl of colors, the familiarity. it was different. it was strange and terrifying, the change. 

those eyes weren't looking at you the same, he wasn't looking at you like he used to.

and you knew that, you could feel it. so half an hour later when you were all walking out of the room, you had to chase him down. no after how determined he was to get away.

“spence-” you followed him, focused on nothing else. “spencer, hey-”

he turned around. you were shocked, by his eyes, by his frown. you took a step back, and you felt more than you possibly could in a hallway at the bureau.

“what?” he asked, and you weren't sure. what else was there to say? what were you supposed to know? how were you supposed to guess what had changed?

“i…” you willed your eyes not to sting, willed yourself not to be affected by this certain feeling in your chest. “i missed you?”

and maybe it was the wrong thing to say, maybe it was. but the scoff from spencer, the scoff hurt.

“i missed you too, when i thought you were dead.”

you stepped back, hurt, concerned, anything but the happiness you’d hoped to feel when you finally saw him again. his words were unfamiliar, his eyes were unfamiliar, and you still didn't know what to say.

how were you supposed to fix this?

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, looking down. you felt small now. you didn't understand, no matter how much you thought you might.

you’d died, you knew. you were gone for months, but you’d missed him. you’d spent every day, every single one of them, hoping, dreaming, wanting to go back to him. you wanted to touch him, to hear his voice, to listen to him even if it was over a cellphone. you wanted to be alive to him, to be his still. you just wanted him back.

you’d spent every day wanting him back. 

but now, now all you wanted to do was to feel bigger. you wanted to see him smile, to know what had changed. you wanted the truth and nothing short of it. 

“y/n, i…”

and this. this wasn't anger. his voice, quiet as it always was, beautiful as it always had been, desperate like you’d never heard before-- his voice was full of guilt, of shame you couldn't recognize.

“i’m glad you aren't dead.”

“ha,” you deadpanned, angry now at the sound of his voice. angry now at the feeling building in your chest. you weren't used to him anymore, you didn't know him the same anymore. but still, you knew too much.

“really, really glad, but i’ve,” his voice cracked, his eyes fell, his body was slouching. you knew how to read this, you would’ve known even if it wasn't him.

you didn't want to hear the next words, but you had to, and you did.

“i met someone- i-”

and maybe it was grief, maybe it was anger, maybe it was desperation, but you smiled. maybe it was an effort to be enough.

“it's okay, spencer.”

those words were such lies, but you had to believe them, you had to feel like you believed them. you owed him that. 

“if you’re happy, then it's okay. that's all i’ve wanted, all i could hope for in-” you swallowed, took a breath that was just enough to keep you from falling on the floor, from begging at his feet. “paris,” you smiled wider, you took a step back, but this time just to give him space. “its okay,” you repeated.

and that had to be enough. it had to be enough because you were walking away.

but, really, spencer was the one who was leaving you behind. you should’ve understood sooner-- because how could you not have known?

*

you didn't bother to look at him.

it had been three weeks. three weeks since you’d broken up-- officially for you since you’d never actually gotten the chance to before, but you supposed you couldn’t actually break up with a corpse. three weeks since you’d smiled and walked away.

it had to be what was best for him. if spencer could find someone who made him happy, if spencer could find someone in the minuscule months you’d been gone, if spencer could move past you, then he deserved to. you couldn't be the one to stop that, and you wouldn't be mad because, honestly, you’d done it to yourself.

and he couldn't be mad because you weren't. because you’d let him go and he had no more reason to be mad. he could even go back to pretending you didn't exist if he wished to.

so you were both content. you both worked with each other, you both avoided eyes. you couldn't bother to look at him or his eyes when all you wanted to do was scream at the feeling in them.

because you’d known that feeling--before. because you’d been on the other end of that feeling before, because your eyes had mirrored his before, and because you knew how that felt.

and you were desperate to get it back. you wanted to pull him back, force him to stay in the cocoon of the two of you. you wanted to claw at him and never allow him to move away.

but that was selfish. you’d already been selfish enough. you’d made him grieve you, and now you had to return the favor.

the difference between the two of you was that you didn't know enough about addiction. you didn't know that despite the time that had passed, your withdrawal had never actually gone away. you didn't know how it worked and so you didn't know that it was still there.

you just saw the look in his eyes. a look you’d used to create. the look of love, of admiration, of hope. love, you used to feel, you think.

when you looked at him all you could see was the feelings he had for someone else.

so no, you didn't bother to look at him.

*

here was what spencer knew about grief: it passed. it was just withdrawal until it wasn't. love was just another addiction, just some more chemicals in your brain, just an idea that you clung to.

it would pass, he knew.

but how could he have known this would happen again?

it would pass, eventually.

but how was he supposed to live through it twice, but really only once?

because you were still here. because you were alive, and not dead, and you were walking him home. you were making sure he got there safe.

and you weren't dead, but she was.

and how was spencer supposed to cope with that?

how could he grieve, when he really didn't know how?

*

if this had been a fraction of what it was like when spencer thought you died, if this was anything like that-- you couldn't bear to see it.

it was like repetition, it was like deja vu, like a memory.

you saw his eyes, and you saw his hopelessness, and you saw yourself reflected back in the colors of his face. you saw the grief, the pain, the anger, the loss.

you couldn't bear to watch this, not then, not now. not when you still felt angry, not when you were still angry.

they had all pleaded with you-- go talk to him, they said. talk to him, you’ll understand.

but that wasn't fair because spencer hadn't died for you. you’d left him and spencer had survived. it wasn’t fair because you still hadn't learned how to deal with any of it. you still couldn't let go, move on, as he had.

so then, why were you standing in front of his door, holding a card addressed to spencer from all of your friends?

well, you couldn't bear to stay away. and you almost couldn't bear to face him when he opened the door, but somehow, you did. somehow, you spoke first.

“hi, spencer,” you said, waving at him, moving back a little, just to give him some space.

“what’re you…” he looked around, looking for someone with you, someone else. his voice was rough like he hadn't talked in days. he looked like a skeleton, standing there in front of you. “...doing here?” he looked you up and down, but he wasn't really looking at anything.

you noticed the hand he had on the door, the subconscious way he had begun to close it, the hand he was holding over his chest, blocking you from him.

“the team sent me, they’re really worried,” your voice was shaking, and you had no idea why. “i brought a card from them, and- and i wanted to see how you were doing.”

his brows furrowed, like what you’d said didn't make any sense. you copied him, concerned with your own sanity. wondering again, why you were here?

“no offense,” he started, standing up taller, looking and sounding anything like spencer, anything but pleasant. “but we aren't really friends, are we?”

there was some irritation rolling up your spine at his words, but his face was innocent. he wasn't being malicious, he wasn't trying to make you feel ridiculous, and he wasn't trying to hurt you anymore. he was too kind for that, you knew. 

you took a breath in, tried to smile. “i guess not,” you sighed, looking down at the ground with unmistakable shame, but then you looked back up. “but, i care about you. i want to be here for you. i- i want to be.. here.”

and no matter how closed off he looked, no matter how strange his face looked, no matter how much you knew he didn't want to, he opened the door and let you in.

and that was how it started. your friendship with spencer.

really, who could’ve known?

*

"i like your apartment," you said while the two of you walked through it. while spencer led you through whatever this strange place was.

"yeah, well, i couldn't keep the apartment after..." he trailed off, no remorse, no feeling in his voice.

you went to sit on his couch, strange and different, but he stayed standing. he paced around the floor, mumbling things under his breath you couldn't understand.

the tightlipped smile you had on your face was doing nothing to conceal your emotions.

"after i died."

he looked up at that, shocked by your crudeness. you rolled your eyes, pulling off your jacket.

"that's a shame, i really liked that kitchen."

spencer bit his lip, continued his pacing, muttered "i know" under his breath. his irritation would've made you laugh if he wasn't looking so insane.

you saw the bottles on the table, the mugs laying around, the papers and books thrown across the floor-- all the things you didn't want to see, you saw them. and you almost couldn't bear it, almost tried to pretend you still hadn't noticed them. but, you were familiar with this.

he did this before when he was still in love with you. when he was stressed.

despite how hard you might try, you couldn't just forget everything about him.

"do i need to ask spencer?" your voice was softer now, quieter. you knew him, and he knew what you were asking.

"do you really want the answer, y/n?" he retorted, rolling his eyes.

maybe sometime, you'd tell him that his defense mechanism was sarcasm. maybe sometime, you'd let him know how annoying it could be.

"it's not going to be what i want, but, neither is anything else." it was a subtle remark about the situation, you hoped spencer hadn't heard those last couple of words. "i don't want this for you, spencer, but i'm here to listen, and so i will."

he stopped pacing, stopped stepping over books and around paperwork. he stopped moving, and it reminded you of that night.

it reminded you of him collapsing in on himself, it reminded you of the anger you knew you didn't deserve to feel, the relief you knew you would never get.

it reminded you of further back when all you could do was smile and let him go.

you'd known him for so long, but you'd never seen him broken like this.

your thoughts distracted you from spencer, who was sitting next to you now, running an agitated hand through his hair, turning himself away from you.

"do you know what grief does to the body?" he asked.

yes, you could have answered. yes, im feeling it right now.

but instead, you said "no," and waited for him to continue.

he did, begrudgingly, a few moments later. "the shock factor causes a spike of adrenaline in your system-- a lot like someone gets in a bad accident --and then when the adrenaline wears off, your body has no choice but to succumb to the pain."

and you, well, you could have told him that, but you let him continue.

"a lot of people have documented actual inflammation which attributes to health issues after a loved one has..." he stopped there. he paused, and his eyes were gone. his feeling was gone, his words were gone.

you could practically see him disappearing on the couch, right next to you.

you could see him slipping away, the reality sinking in further than it could before, and so, you started talking.

you had to say something, and this would have to be enough. your remorse for him would have to be enough to get you through this.

because otherwise, how could you stand it?

"do you ever get that moment in the morning, when you've temporarily forgotten everything bad and it just feels... peaceful?" the words were a shock to both of you. the sound of your voice. 

you weren't looking at him, but the wall, willing yourself not to feel that reminder. not to think of any of it. "do you ever get that?" you repeated, eyes off. 

spencer nodded, small, hard for you to see when you were actively trying not to look at him-- but enough to continue.

"it's like our conscious and subconscious make a pact, to give us that split second of peace." you laughed, bittersweet, and looked at him. you turned towards him, making sure he was looking at you.

making sure he couldn't tell what you were thinking about, that this was about anything but him.

"when that relief happens, spencer, you have to grab hold of it-- just hold onto it."

he stared at you, brows furrowed.

"you reach, and you grab it, and you keep it." you nodded along with your words, feeling that sick crawling up your chest, feeling that grief along with all the guilt.

this wasn't fair to him, you knew that, but if this could help-- even a little bit --you had to try.

"why...?" spencer tried to start, clearing his throat to keep his word from breaking.

"that's how you get past it." you motioned to him, to the floor, to the things all around his home, and finally, to yourself. "passed all the shock, and adrenaline, and all the sick."

spencer was looking down, not at you anymore, not at anything.

you used to know those eyes, you were sure. you used to understand every thought that ran through his head, you used to remember the person you had been with him. you used to be able to think of him without cringing, without that sick feeling in your stomach, wrapping itself around you like a blanket.

you used to understand, and now you didn't. but this had to be enough. this had to be enough for you, to be here with him.

"okay?" you asked, softer, gently. "okay?" you repeated.

and he nodded.

*

you went over once a week. just for the first couple of months. you went over to spencer's, you watched movies, you held his hand and squeezed his shoulder.

you managed not to tear yourself into pieces, managed to actually smile when you were around him. you managed to do it all, managed to do enough to keep the nightmares away, to keep those circles from under his eyes.

and that's all you wanted, really. that's all you needed. as long as spencer was okay, okay as he could be, as long as he was coping, moving on, doing everything a normal human being should. as long as he was doing all of that, you didn't need anything else.

and, and if there was a tiny piece of you, locked away in all the dark parts you tried to keep secret-- if there was a piece of you that was hopeful, that was holding onto something other than just tiny moments, if there was a piece of you that thought maybe he would just-

if there was any piece of you that thought differently, well, you would ignore it.

you went over once a week, just to make sure he was okay.

and really, where was the harm in that?

*

"'the shining' tonight?" he asked, walking alongside you, carrying the coffee you had just bought for him.

"why do you insist on watching that at least once a month-"

"this is actually only the third time,"

"it was enough the first two." he smiled at you, and you couldn't keep the grin from slipping back.

"sounds good," he concluded, walking along.

and if you followed him, well, you were just being a good friend.

*

"do you think i should get a haircut?" you asked, walking around his desk, prancing more like. prancing like he was your prey and you were about to eat him.

the thought made you giggle.

"your hair looks fine," he answered, not really paying attention. instead, he was marking something off of a page, flipping to the next one in barely a second.

"real nice, spence. as long as you think it's fine-"

"did you know that the average person gets around 150 haircuts in their lifetime?"

"yeah, spencer, and all those people have dead ends," you groaned and he hummed.

and if you liked the way the light was reflecting off of his face, hiding the shadows you knew were there, well, you were just bored.

*

"spencer-" he was running away from you, running away from whatever ghost was following him.

you had to stop chasing him, but somehow, you knew you wouldn't be able to even if you tried.

"spencer, will you just-" you tried again, running far enough ahead so that you could stand in his way.

you couldn't bear to see the blank look in his eyes, the emotionless void you would never get used to.

"yes?" he asked, like you were a child like you were a little kid and you needed him to fix something.

it was condescending and rude and you just wanted to yell at him-- to yell at yourself for being irritated.

"are you okay?" you asked instead. you hated the words, but you hated this feeling more.

"i'm fine." and then he attempted to get past you.

"spencer, those girls, they were all-"

"all what, y/n? all shot? all murdered?"

"that's not what i mean-"

"that's the job, y/l/n. you should know that."

he was gone after that. disappearing, like you both had before.

and, if you wanted to scream, to bang your fists against the wall until it broke, to beg him to just listen to you, to sleep in his bed and watch him while he slept, well. you were going to ignore it. grief wasn't an object, and it wouldn't go away.

you would know.

*

some nights, particularly on the ones when spencer was busy, when there was a case and you weren't supposed to be sneaking into each other's hotel room, on those nights you felt colder than you ever had before.

you felt that feeling again-- the one spencer had taught you about.

the sick that almost made your insides collapse. the sick that was going to fill you to the brim until it couldn't anymore, numb you to the very edge. the sick that had been there for over a year, a long year full of death. full of life and nothing but destruction. the infection that should've been gone ages ago.

on those nights, you tried to hold onto reality, tried to remind yourself of what had actually happened.

it was all a chain of events, really. and it was truly all of your fault.

you couldn't be angry because if you wanted to be angry at someone, it had to be yourself.

it couldn't be spencer, or maeve, or hotch, or the universe.

just you.

and the sick would pass, you knew. the next day when spencer would hand you your coffee mug, when he would say something-- anything --and you would listen. it would all go away.

and if those feelings, if that reality that you kept trying to avoid, if that wouldn't go away, well. you were going to have to let it go because you couldn't keep going like this. pretending.

honestly, how couldn't you know?

*

recently, the effort you'd put into keeping at least a three-foot distance between you and spencer was tireless.

to give him space, obviously. to avoid bumping into him when you were walking, to keep yourself from tripping into him.

it was just convenient, you told yourself. nothing else to it.

except, on this night, after a long day at work, after spencer had sat down right next to you with a book in hand, so much closer than you wanted. well, you couldn't just simply move away.

there was no space on this couch anyway.

technically, you were supposed to be watching a movie. technically, spencer had picked this one out-- something about the discovery of water, you thought --and you had no interest in it. technically, he was completely ignoring it.

before, two years ago-- almost, that was. almost two years without him. before, two years ago, you would've bickered with him about it until he gave in. until he put down the book, clicked a button on the remote you'd misplaced, and lean in so close to you that you could barely breathe. it was a routine, you were sure, and back then you wondered if he brought the book out just so you would tease him about. like it was an excuse to kiss you if he needed one.

not that you were thinking about that. not that he was doing it again. not that it mattered, honestly.

just a memory that hit you, is all, as you stared at the screen, pretended to listen to the words when all you wanted to do was put some distance between the two of you.

it was getting hard not to feel that pull, not to let that feeling trap you.

"spencer," you whispered, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

he hummed instead of answering, didn't look up from the page.

"you're cold,"

he quirked an eyebrow at you, turning towards you only slightly. he was only a little bit closer now, but it only proved you were lying some more.

he was desperately hot.

"do you need a blanket?" he asked, the picture of innocence.

at least one of you was.

"no, just maybe a little more space. don't want to get hypothermia," you coughed, an attempted laugh maybe, and tried to move away.

"you're not showing any of the symptoms of hypothermia-- are you fatigued, or is your heart racing?"

you would've laughed if he wasn't moving his face closer to yours, trying to check your pupils discreetly.

"um, no, spencer. i was kidding, i'm just going to--" you moved, an inch, and then another, smiling at him.

it wasn't too suspicious. and the movie was halfway over.

"okay,"

and you looked back at the screen...

only to feel his eyes on you a moment later. you turned your head slightly. he hadn't picked his book back up, hadn't moved an inch from before.

"aren't you going to read your book again so you can keep bothering me, reid?"

you didn't need to look to see the smile. "is it bothering you?"

you threw your head back, turning so he could see you roll your eyes. his brown ones, impossibly bright, impossibly beautiful were staring back at you, mischievous. you bit the inside of your cheek and then laughed.

"no, of course not, spencer." you turned towards the tv again. "i am very interested and equally involved in the discovery of water," you waved your hand for him to continue.

"that's not actually what..." he trailed off, freezing at something.

"are you okay?" this time, you didn't hesitate to move closer to him, to place a hand on his shoulder and get him to look at you.

his heat was excruciating and addicting. a dangerous combination.

but your concern beat your stupid feelings, and so, you didn't move away.

"deja vu..." he said, head-turning, eyes looking down on you.

"what?"

"we've done this before," was all he said, continuing to stare like he didn't know what was happening. staring at you with strange eyes, strange wide eyes.

it was only scaring you a little bit. you didn't understand.

"we've never watched this movie before," you reassured as if he was worried about that. as if that was the problem.

"no," he said, moving a foot closer, breaking the boundary you had put between the two of you. "no, but we've done this before."

he was too close, now.

"spencer... what?" you looked from the screen to him, nervously, trying not to feel intimidated, small. he hadn't been this close in so long.

"just-" and then he was leaning in. he was leaning close enough for his breath to trail across your skin, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his cheek, that you could barely see his eyes anymore.

close enough to kiss you.

but, you couldnt breathe like that.

and so, with all the grace you had, you moved back. so far back, and put your knees up as a barrier between the two of you. anything to keep him away.

"um, spencer i don't know if you forgot-" he tried to interrupt, but you weren't paying attention. "i died, remember? and then- and then, um, you moved on and, we haven't done that in a long time and-"

“y/n-"

"-we're just friends, right? and friends don't really get that close- we shouldn't get-" but he was, he was getting that close, and your stuttering was slowing because you couldn't focus on anything but him.

"i remember," spencer whispered, but his eyes weren't on yours anymore. no, they were on your lips, staring down at the place he hadn't bothered to look at in two years. at your face, which he hadn't seen until now.

"we cant-"

"can i kiss you?" he asked, instead of paying attention, instead of remembering, instead of understanding that this was going to tear you from the inside out.

"i don't think that's a good idea, spencer, i really don't..." you trailed off because he was moving back.

"i'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to," he promised, looking so beautiful, speaking so plainly. 

and those words, they made your heart start beating again. because who was he to assume?

"no! it's just- we haven't kissed. we don't kiss, anymore."

it was a painful reality, and you almost felt bad for saying it when you saw the wince on spencer's face, but, it was the truth. you couldn't deny either of you from the truth.

"i know it's familiar, and maybe comforting, but i don't think it's a good idea." you breathed in once, wanted to scream at yourself for saying those words. wanted to scream because you'd wanted to kiss spencer since the moment you'd stopped.

"no, that's not why i want to kiss you," his voice broke on the word kiss, and you attempted to scramble yourself on the couch, to move so that he wouldn't have the opportunity to convince you.

it wouldn't take much.

"it'll just hurt us both more, spencer." your voice was monotone because you weren't sure if you could get this out any other way. the stinging around your eyes had to be fake because you weren't crying.

honestly, you didn't care.

and then, spencer got up, walked away.

and you had to care. you had to care because, despite the fact that he'd left you, that you'd been grieving for him for the last two years, that you missed him more than it was possible to miss another person-- despite all of that, he was your best friend.

he'd become your best friend, had been that since you'd first met, and you couldn't let that go now.

so you followed, you followed again, and called his name again, and begged him to come back, for the first time out loud.

but when he came back out of his bedroom, all you heard was the crinkling of paper.

you just saw spencer's never-ending serious face, but, mixed was the tiniest him of embarrassment. the pink splattered across his cheek, the hesitation to look at you.

he was holding something.

"what's that?" you asked, distracted from the issue, momentarily focused on just him and not the past.

except, when he held it up, you could see that it was the opposite.

"it's the letter you wrote me when-" he swallowed, smiling a sad smile at you and then looking down again. "when you left."

you'd left it on his desk, so he'd find it first. so that he would be the first one to know.

"oh," you breathed out, shocked, sick.

"i kept it because it was the last piece i had of you," he folded it into tiny pieces, then unfolded it along the creases. it looked like a practiced motion "i used to keep it in my shirt pocket, but when i met maeve, i put it in my bedside drawer."

goodbye, spencer. you'd wrote. you'd cried while writing it, cried while you drove away, cried when you woke up in the hospital, cried every night after you came back.

it was excruciating to leave without spencer, but you'd learned it was worse to have him leave you when you were still there.

you'd have traded that feeling for anything else.

you breathed in, shakily. you didn't like these memories, you didn't like that he was digging them back up, but you had to listen. you wouldn't leave, now.

"i put it in my bedside drawer because it's important to keep mementos-- its actually a method of coping, and some people believe it strengthens relationships, and you were gone, but i thought that-" he stopped. took a deep breath in, closed his eyes and counted to three. you could tell, you knew him that well.

you smiled, despite the stinging in your eyes, the pricks on your skin, the crawling up your stomach.

"i kept it because it was the last words i got from you, and i couldn't let that go. i still cant, y/n."

you couldn't process these words, you couldn't process this feeling. it was detrimental, and you had noting you could say.

"i don't know if you can ever stop loving someone, i mean," he snorted, looked right at you like he didn't know what he was saying. "i know you can learn to love someone else, but, i don't know if you can ever get rid of that feeling... of that-" and he was still looking at you, but he wasn't talking anymore.

and you weren't breathing because this was a dream, because you would not allow yourself to wake up from this, and you would not start crying in front of him.

you were selfish selfish selfish.

"i don't know how i couldn't have known i was still in love with you, but i didn't, and now," his eyes, his voice, his entire demeanor softened. he was molding, changing right in front of you. it had to be impossible. "i do. i know."

spencer had never spoken this much, he didn't confess, he didn't not know things, so this had to be fake. it had to be.

"spencer," you gasped out, shocked by the sound of your own voice. shocked to find out that you still couldn't breathe.

shocked to watch him move forward, smile the same smile you thought you might've fallen in love with.

"you know now, so, can i kiss you?"

you couldn't remember the last time the two of you had kissed. you thought that it might've been right before bed that night, that you might've kissed him on his forehead while he was sitting on his desk, that he might've kissed up your neck while you cuddled each other to sleep.

but you couldn't remember.

and so, it was painful to even utter the word "yes".

it was painful to feel that again. that lovely, lovely feeling.

his lips against yours, softer than you could remember, slower than you'd ever imagined possible. so much better than you could've thought another persons lips could be.

and you wanted to gasp, to breathe, but you didn't dare move away from him.

this was too good, this was too waited for, this was too painful to move back.

and so you didn't and neither did he. neither of you could.

you grabbed at each other, threaded your hands through his hair, held onto his face like you would never let go, and you kissed him like you loved him.

because you did.

and then, when you did break, when you were sure, you moved back and couldn't stop the slip of "spencer" that came from your lips.

your puffy, recently kissed lips.

and when you finally got the courage to open your eyes, the most beautiful smile you could've seen was there. waiting for you.

"you're my moment." spencer said, he whispered as if it was a realization.

"what?" you asked, still breathless, still addicted to a kiss you hadn't allowed yourself to think of, really, in two years.

"that moment in the morning, the moment of peace when everything is still good... you're my moment."

your heart stopped again. stopped, because this was you, these were your words coming from his lips.

"do you remember?" he asked, thinking of those words from those months ago, those words you'd told him in an effort to comfort yourself. to remind yourself that he was still there.

you nodded and spencer smiled.

"you're my peace and my relief, y/n," he pulled your face closer to his, leaned in, and it was like nothing you'd ever felt before.

his smile, his lips, his words.

this was a strange feeling.

"i'm holding onto you, now. i don't think i can let go,"

these weren't his words, but they were enough.

you were smiling, you realized. even with the tear stains down your face, even with the puffy lips, even with the heartache and the addiction, even with the years between the two of you.

you were smiling.

"i love you, spencer."

and so was he.

because really, how couldn't you have known?

* 

my masterlist here.