#like. can she be without Gideon's soul?

[timeandspacelord]

Your last remaining fist and gesture fucking bit me

[neil-jortson]

I cannot begin to describe my level of confusion rn

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Round 1

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Locked Tomb series (Gideon the Ninth, Harrow the Ninth, Nona the Ninth, and others) by Tamsyn Muir

Endorsement from submitter #1: "An extremely fun, humorous romp! A heart-breaking, soul crushing catharsis inducing tragedy! A thoughtful piece on imperial structures and trauma. On queerness, Muir flawlessly and without announcement, cracks gender open like an egg and spills its disproven guts across the page. The Locked Tomb does it all also bones, bitch."

Endorsement from submitter #2: "Lesbian necromancers in space. So many fascinating, sort of fucked up sapphic relationships going on."

The Emperor needs necromancers.

The Ninth Necromancer needs a swordswoman.

Gideon has a sword, some dirty magazines, and no more time for undead bullshit.

Brought up by unfriendly, ossifying nuns, ancient retainers, and countless skeletons, Gideon is ready to abandon a life of servitude and an afterlife as a reanimated corpse. She packs up her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines, and prepares to launch her daring escape. But her childhood nemesis won't set her free without a service.

Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House and bone witch extraordinaire, has been summoned into action. The Emperor has invited the heirs to each of his loyal Houses to a deadly trial of wits and skill. If Harrowhark succeeds she will become an immortal, all-powerful servant of the Resurrection, but no necromancer can ascend without their cavalier.

Without Gideon's sword, Harrow will fail, and the Ninth House will die. Of course, some things are better left dead.

Fantasy, science fiction, horror, mystery, humor, series, adult

The Javelin Program by Derin Edala (Time to Orbit: Unknown series)

When Dr Aspen Greaves signed up for the Javelin Program, humanity's first foray into colonising deep space, they expected to wake up to life in a thriving colony on a distant planet. Instead, they find themself five years away from their destination on a broken spaceship full of complex mysteries, dead astronauts, and a very unhelpful AI.

Aspen wasn't trained for any of this. But if they can't keep themselves alive, get the ship in working order, and find out what went wrong by unravelling a chain of mysteries leading all the way back to distant Earth, then neither Aspen nor the five thousand sleeping passengers in their care will ever see a planet again.

Science fiction, mystery, series, adult

[reidmarieprentiss]

No More Misunderstandings

Summary: You have a big crush on Spencer, everyone can see it except for Spencer himself.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Tech Analyst fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: crushing, (un)requited feelings, bad communication, Spencer trying to flirt, gay Elle, Rossi not Gideon, happy ending, Elle is out but reader doesn't know

Word count: 9.4k

a/n: if this man ever asked me to hang out i would say yes in two seconds flat

main masterlist

Every day, you settled into the hum of computers and the soft glow of monitors that painted the walls of the BAU's technical analysis hub, affectionately dubbed the "bat cave" by those who knew it best. Your role as a tech analyst found you working side-by-side with the brilliant and bubbly Penelope Garcia, a woman whose personality was as colorful as her wardrobe. Despite the comfort of being shrouded in the semi-darkness of your tech-laden sanctuary, a certain type of light seemed to elude you—the spark of acknowledgment in Dr. Spencer Reid's deep, thoughtful eyes.

You harbored a crush so palpable that even the air in the room felt charged with your nervous energy whenever Spencer was near. However, your shy demeanor cloaked these feelings in a veil of secrecy that somehow, miraculously, Spencer himself never managed to pierce through. Everyone else on the team had noticed, from the knowing smiles of Derek Morgan to the gentle teasing of JJ, but Spencer remained blissfully unaware, his attention often drifting towards Elle Greenaway with an intensity that tugged painfully at your heart.

Penelope, ever the observant friend, never missed a beat. "Oh, honey," she would whisper, "it’s like you’re sending Morse code with those blushes and he’s living in a blackout."

Her words were gentle, tinged with humor and affection, yet each jest felt like a pinprick to your already tender sensibilities. Whenever Spencer visited the bat cave to discuss case details or gather information, your heart raced as you tried to provide him with everything he needed without tripping over your words or, heaven forbid, your own feet.

"Hey, Spencer," you would start, your voice a careful mixture of professionalism and the warmth you couldn’t keep at bay.

"Hello," he would respond, his eyes scanning the screens filled with data. His focus was razor-sharp, dissecting information with the same precision he used on everything but the emotional currents swirling around him.

Each interaction was a dance. You would inch towards openness, leaning in to catch a whiff of his cologne or to appreciate the subtle shift of his hair when he ran his fingers through it in concentration. But as soon as he glanced up, those hazel eyes like windows to an enigmatic soul, you would recoil slightly, cheeks aflame, words retreating as quickly as they had dared to emerge.

Later, as the screen showed live feeds of the team moving through their environments, Penelope would nudge you gently with her elbow, her voice low and teasing. "You know, if we had a dollar for every time you fumbled around that man, we could retire and buy an island in the Bahamas."

You’d offer a small, embarrassed laugh, grateful for the low lighting hiding the worst of your blush. "I just... I don’t know how to act around him, Penelope. What if he doesn’t..."

"Feel the same?" she'd finish for you, her tone softening. "Sweetie, the heart’s a funny creature. It doesn’t play by the rules of logic that Spencer loves so much. But who knows? Maybe one day, he’ll surprise you and actually look up from those case files and see what’s right in front of him."

The comfort in her voice was soothing, yet each day ended the same—with you watching Spencer, Spencer watching Elle, and Penelope watching over you, a guardian angel clad in technicolor, armed with an arsenal of jokes and just the right words to keep you smiling through the uncertainty.

—

The day had been rolling along as usual in the BAU's bat cave, the rhythmic clicking of keyboards providing a steady backdrop to the glow of computer screens. Penelope had excused herself for a quick bathroom break, leaving you alone amidst the towers of technology. Just as the door clicked shut behind her, the shrill ring of the phone sliced through the quiet, startling you slightly. Calls from the field were usually Penelope’s domain, her cheerful voice a soothing constant for the team. Today, it seemed, you would have to step into her shoes.

“Y/N speaking, what can I do for you?” Your voice wavered slightly, anxiety bubbling up as you prepared for your usual toggle through databases and security feeds.

When Spencer’s voice responded from the other end, a different kind of alertness prickled across your skin. “Hi, Y/N, we need to cross-reference known associates of the unsub with recent flight records. Can you pull up the lists and cross-check for any matches?”

Your heart thumped erratically, his voice weaving through the receiver like a familiar song that never failed to stir your soul. You tried to maintain a steady tone, hoping your voice didn’t betray the sudden nervousness that his presence, even just over the phone, incited. “Sure, Spencer, just a moment.”

As your fingers danced across the keyboard, the professional mask you wore each day slid comfortably into place. You were adept at your job, a fact that never faltered, even under the weight of your emotions. Quickly pulling up the necessary records, you began the process of cross-referencing, your mind briefly detached from the flutter in your stomach.

“Looks like there’s a match. Michael Davidson, on a flight from Atlanta to D.C. this morning,” you reported, a trace of pride threading through your words at the efficiency with which you’d located the information.

“Great, Y/N. Thanks,” Spencer’s voice came through, a hint of relief palpable even through the static of the connection. His appreciation, simple and straightforward, filled you with a warmth that went beyond professional satisfaction.

Hanging up, you let out a breath you’d been holding. Penelope chose that moment to breeze back into the room, her presence as effervescent as ever. Catching the tail end of your smile, she quirked an eyebrow playfully.

“Spill the beans, buttercup. You look like someone just handed you a golden ticket,” she teased, settling back into her chair.

“It was just Spencer needing some quick info,” you shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant as your heart continued to beat a staccato rhythm against your ribs.

Penelope’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling with unspoken understanding. “Oh, just Spencer, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, trying to brush it off casually. “Derek would never betray you by talking to me,” you teased, hoping to steer the conversation away from your flustered feelings.

Penelope’s eyes sparkled even more as she winked at you. “Oh, he’s allowed to have side pieces, my love. I’m a generous goddess.”

You burst out laughing, your nervousness momentarily forgotten as Penelope’s playful banter eased your tension. “I’ll let him know you said that,” you shot back, turning back to your screen, trying to focus on anything other than the residual warmth from talking to Spencer.

Penelope, never one to let you off the hook easily, leaned in closer. “Should I let Spencer know he isn’t allowed to have any side pieces then?” she asked, winking at you again, her tone as sweet as honey but with a hint of mischief.

“Penelope!” you gasped, feeling your face flush all over again. The blush you thought had faded returned with a vengeance as you turned away, hoping she wouldn’t see just how red you were.

She laughed, clearly pleased with herself. “I’m just saying, babe. The boy’s got options, but I think we both know his best one is sitting right here.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as you let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“Just doing my part to make sure he doesn’t miss any signals,” Penelope sang, tapping her keyboard lightly, her grin as wide as ever. You couldn't help but smile too, secretly grateful for her teasing. After all, it was these moments that made the crush a little more bearable.

—

During one of Rossi’s famed pasta-making sessions, a relaxed atmosphere filled his spacious kitchen, with the rich aroma of tomato sauce simmering on the stove and the sounds of laughter mingling with soft Italian music playing in the background. Rossi, the consummate host, guided everyone through the steps of making the perfect pasta dough, his hands moving with the ease of long practice.

You found yourself stationed next to Spencer, who was diligently kneading a mound of fresh pasta dough. His hands, beautiful and dexterous, worked the dough with a precision that was mesmerizing. The veins on his hands stood out, accentuating every deliberate movement, and you couldn’t help but be captivated by the fluidity of his motions. It wasn’t just his intellect that drew you in; even his seemingly mundane physical actions had a way of catching your undivided attention.

Derek and JJ, who were partnered up on the other side of the kitchen island, caught your fixed gaze and shared an amused look between them. Derek’s smirk grew as he nudged JJ, whispering loud enough for you to overhear, “Looks like someone’s more interested in the handwork than the handiwork.”

JJ chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she joined in the teasing. “Yeah, I think Y/N’s planning on writing a thesis on the manual dexterity of certain geniuses.”

Flustered, you tore your eyes away from Spencer’s hands, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You attempted to focus back on your own portion of dough, which had begun to stick to the counter more than it should. Spencer, oblivious to the exchange, looked up and noticed your struggle.

“Hey, you need to dust a bit more flour on the surface,” he said, his voice gentle, unaware of the reason behind your distraction. He reached over to sprinkle some flour on your dough and then on the countertop, his fingers briefly brushing against yours. The brief contact sent a pleasant jolt through you, further flustering you.

Rossi, ever the observant host, noticed the playful dynamic and decided to rescue you from your embarrassment. “Alright, everyone, let’s focus on the art of pasta! Y/N, why don’t you help me with the sauce?” he suggested, giving you a knowing smile as he handed you a wooden spoon.

As you helped Rossi stir the simmering sauce, carefully blending the herbs into the rich, aromatic mixture, you couldn’t help but cast furtive glances across the kitchen. There, Hotch had taken up the spot you vacated next to Spencer, now deeply engaged in the art of pasta making under Rossi’s enthusiastic instruction. While Hotch was methodically following Rossi’s guidance, Spencer’s attention occasionally drifted.

Across from them, Elle was rolling out her dough with a confident flourish, laughing at something Hotch had said. You caught Spencer's eyes as they met Elle's, a shared glance of amusement passing effortlessly between them. The ease of their silent communication was stark, their smiles syncing in a moment of private jest that seemed to exclude the world around them—including you.

That simple, silent exchange felt like a punch to the gut. The laughter and camaraderie around you suddenly seemed a bit dimmer, a bit more distant. It wasn’t just jealousy that twisted in your stomach—it was the aching realization of how much could be said in a single look when there was a real connection; a connection you feared might never form between Spencer and yourself.

You turned your attention back to the sauce, the spoon moving mechanically in your hand as Rossi continued to chat about the nuances of Italian cooking. He didn’t seem to notice your distraction, caught up in his culinary passion. But inside, your thoughts were swirling as tumultuously as the sauce you stirred.

Trying to shake off the sinking feeling, you focused on the positives—the laughter of your team, the comforting weight of the wooden spoon in your hand, the delicious smell that filled the kitchen. But despite the festive atmosphere, a part of you remained reserved, quietly nursing the tender hope that maybe, just maybe, one day Spencer would look at you with the same warmth and understanding he so effortlessly shared with Elle. Until then, you resolved to keep smiling, keep stirring, and keep hoping.

—

The BAU briefing room felt unusually empty without Penelope's vibrant presence, Elle's keen insights, and Derek's charismatic confidence filling the space. With them on vacation, the dynamic had shifted, and you found yourself stepping into roles that stretched beyond your usual behind-the-scenes expertise. The weight of Penelope's responsibilities now rested squarely on your shoulders, a challenge you accepted with both determination and a hint of trepidation.

As the team gathered for the briefing on the new case, Hotch turned to you. "Y/N, could you walk us through the case description and the current leads?" His voice was calm, authoritative, yet imbued with a supportive undertone that did little to ease the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Nodding, you stood, remote in hand, feeling every pair of eyes in the room settle on you. Public speaking was not your greatest fear, but it was hardly your favorite endeavor—especially not with Spencer's intense gaze locked on you. It was as if his eyes were a pair of spotlights, illuminating not just your words but every minute reaction and emotion that flickered across your face.

As you began to outline the case, detailing the patterns and possible psychological motivations of the unsub, Spencer's scrutiny never wavered. His stare was not judgmental nor dismissive; rather, it was analytical, perhaps even a bit curious, as if he were trying to read the nuances of your presentation, to understand not just the facts but the person delivering them.

"Based on the geographical profiling and the behavioral pattern, we believe the unsub may be operating within a ten-mile radius of downtown," you explained, pointing to the map projected behind you. Your voice steadied as you delved deeper into the analysis, the familiar terrain of data and evidence providing a solid foundation beneath your initially shaky confidence.

Spencer's focus, rather than rattling you further, began to foster a sense of resolve within you. You found yourself speaking more confidently, your nerves tempered by the realization that this was still your team—your family in all but blood. They weren't here to judge; they were here to listen and to learn from what you had to offer.

As the briefing wrapped up, Hotch nodded in approval. "Good work, Y/N. Keep us posted on any updates from Garcia's systems until she returns."

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Glad it was over, you were already preparing to scamper back to your office when you heard a voice that sent a familiar shiver down your spine.

“Y/N?” Spencer's voice, calm yet inquisitive, caught your attention.

You spun around to face him, trying not to let your fluster show. “What’s up?”

“Can you put the map back up on the screen, please?” he asked, already standing by the large projection screen.

“Ye–yeah, of course.” Your fingers fumbled with the remote as you quickly reactivated the display, bringing the map back onto the screen.

“Here,” Spencer said, still not looking back at you. “Come look at this.”

You walked over to stand beside him, your eyes inadvertently drawn to his long fingers as they traced paths along the map, pointing out specific areas. The same hands that had mesmerized you earlier were now gliding over the screen, drawing you into his thought process.

Spencer started talking about the geographical profile, rattling off information with his typical rapid-fire brilliance. But what took you by surprise was how he spoke to you—not as the team’s tech analyst, but as if you were another profiler, someone he wanted to consult. This was new, and it left you momentarily stunned. He’d never done this before.

“Spencer?” you asked quietly, your voice barely audible in the spacious room. He hummed in response, still focused on the map as he tugged thoughtfully at his bottom lip—a gesture you’d come to adore and envy.

“Why are you asking me about this?” you continued, your curiosity growing along with your nerves. “Why not Rossi? Or Hotch?”

Spencer paused, finally turning to face you, his eyes filled with the same focused intensity he usually reserved for solving cases. “Because you see things differently,” he said softly. “You have a different perspective, and that’s valuable. Sometimes it’s not just about profiling. It’s about how we approach the data, and you… you understand patterns in a way that’s unique.”

His words caught you off guard, but they filled you with an unexpected warmth. You weren’t just the tech analyst who plugged in the data—they saw you, Spencer saw you, as part of the team, as someone with valuable insights.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you held his gaze for a moment longer than you intended. “Thanks, Spencer,” you whispered, trying to suppress the blush creeping up your neck.

He smiled, a small but genuine curve of his lips, before turning back to the map. “Now, what do you think about this area here?” he asked, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for you two to be collaborating like this.

For once, you weren’t just lost in thoughts of him—you were part of the conversation, and it felt good.

After you felt you'd helped all you could, you excused yourself back to your office, ready to sink back into the more solitary part of your work. However, Spencer seemed to have other plans, as he walked alongside you, his footsteps synchronized with yours, indicating he wasn't quite done talking. His expression was one of mild concern, a usual precursor to his deep dives into various subjects.

As you walked, he continued to unravel his thoughts about the case, tying loose ends and circling back to previous points with a precision that was nothing short of impressive. It was typical of Spencer to thoroughly dissect each aspect of a case, often taking tangential routes in the conversation that surprisingly led right back to the main topic, a testament to his prodigious mind.

However, as engrossed as he was in discussing the case, his next words veered sharply from the professional to the personal, catching you completely off guard and momentarily stalling your mental gears. The shift was so sudden that it took a moment for you to register what he was actually asking, pulling you out of your case-focused mindset and into a more introspective space. This unexpected question not only showed his human side but also reminded you of the depth of his observational skills, not just in work but in personal matters as well.

"How is Felix, by the way?" Spencer asked, an innocently curious tilt to his head as he regarded you, his pace slowing slightly.

"What?" The name jolted you, an echo from a past chapter of your life you hadn’t opened in ages, and certainly not one you had expected Spencer to know anything about. You blinked, momentarily confused, trying to piece together the leap in conversation.

"Felix? How are they?" Spencer repeated, his interest seemingly piqued by your reaction—or perhaps just his natural inclination toward thorough understanding.

You paused, standing now in the doorway of your office, the background hum of computer servers providing a soft soundtrack to this unexpected moment. "Um, I don't know," you admitted, still trying to navigate the strange turn the conversation had taken.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, did you two separate?" Spencer’s tone was filled with genuine apology, his face reflecting concern.

You managed a small, somewhat awkward laugh, finding both the absurdity and the sudden intimacy of the conversation slightly overwhelming. "Well, yes. A long while ago." Your response came out lighter than you felt, the surprise of the question making your heart race for reasons other than your usual nervousness around Spencer.

As Spencer absorbed your response, his expression remained unreadable, a common trait when he was deep in thought or processing information. He nodded, perhaps filing away the conversation for later reflection, before excusing himself with a polite but somewhat distant farewell. His departure was quick, efficient, the way he typically transitioned back to work, yet it left a trail of questions in its wake.

You watched him go, a blend of relief and curiosity mingling in your thoughts. The inquiry into your personal life was uncharacteristic of Spencer, who usually maintained a strict boundary between professional and personal discussions, at least when it came to initiating such topics himself. The interaction lingered in your mind, an outlier in the usual pattern of your interactions.

"Maybe it's because Elle isn't here," you thought silently, turning back to your computer.

After leaving your office, Spencer quickly texted Elle to update her that you were no longer seeing Felix, contrary to their assumption. Elle replied enthusiastically with two thumbs up, urging him to ask you out soon or she would take the opportunity herself. 

—

Throughout the week, with Penelope, Elle, and Derek away, the dynamic at the BAU shifted noticeably. Spencer seemed to step out of his usual reserved demeanor, engaging more frequently, particularly with you. His attempts at conversation often appeared to teeter on the edge of something beyond mere professional interest, though it was so subtle that it often flew under your radar.

Tuesday morning, Spencer leaned against the counter, watching you struggle with the temperamental coffee machine that had decided today was the day to revolt. "You know, statistically, manual coffee presses have a lower failure rate compared to electric ones," he commented, a slight quirk to his lips.

You glanced at him, chuckling lightly, "Is that so? Maybe I should switch, then."

"Yeah, and they make better coffee. Maybe I could show you how to use one sometime?" His tone was casual, but there was a tentative note to it, almost hopeful.

As the coffee machine finally sputtered to life, producing a somewhat decent cup of coffee, Spencer’s offer lingered in the air, subtly altering the atmosphere between you. His suggestion about the manual coffee press had been light, almost playful, but it carried an undercurrent of personal interest that left you unexpectedly flustered. Despite this, you masked your reaction with a casual nod, trying to maintain an even keel.

"Sure, I could always use better coffee," you responded, your voice steady despite the slight quickening of your heartbeat. You focused on fixing your coffee, adding just the right amount of cream and sugar, using the mundane task as a moment to collect your thoughts.

Spencer watched you for a moment, perhaps sensing the shift in your demeanor but respecting the boundary you subtly enforced with your nonchalant reply. His smile was gentle, not pushing further, as he too turned his attention back to preparing his own drink.

Wednesday at lunch you sat in the break room flipping through case files, Spencer slid into the seat across from you with his own lunch—a homemade sandwich seemingly crafted with meticulous care. "I read somewhere that sharing meals can enhance group bonding and individual rapport," he began, looking directly at you with an earnest expression.

You looked up, smiling at the factoid, you loved hearing Spencer talk. He was always so endearing. "That sounds about right. Food does bring people together."

"Maybe we could test that theory. There's a new Thai place nearby that’s supposed to be great," he suggested, his voice smooth but slightly hurried.

"That would be an interesting experiment," you agreed, your thoughts inadvertently glossing over Spencer's subtle personal invitation. Instead, your mind wandered to the social dynamics of the team, or perhaps more pointedly, the possibility of Spencer going out with Elle without having to extend a direct invitation—an idea that stoked a twinge of jealousy, burning in your stomach like an ugly green monster. 

Spencer nodded, his expression shifting subtly as he detected the undercurrent of your thoughts, interpreting them as disinterest in a personal outing. He tried to mask any hint of disappointment, maintaining his typical composed demeanor. Internally, however, he wrestled with the sting of what felt like another missed connection, another attempt at reaching out quietly rebuffed.

"It would be a great way to explore some new flavors... maybe just the two of us first, to see if it’s worth recommending to the team?" His tone was measured, carefully modulating between casual and sincere, revealing his hope that this might pave the way to a more personal connection between the two of you.

Despite his clear wording, your mind twisted his intentions, clouded by the assumption that his ultimate aim was to impress Elle upon her return. This idea gnawed at you, the thought of being potentially used as a stepping stone in Spencer’s strategy to engage Elle more personally. It tainted the sincerity you might have otherwise perceived in his proposal.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you responded, trying to mask your feelings with a nod and a polite smile. "Testing it out sounds sensible... then we can tell Elle and the rest if it's good." Your voice carried a hint of forced cheerfulness as you inadvertently redirected the focus back to Elle, reinforcing your misinterpretation of Spencer's motives.

Spencer noticed the subtle shift in your tone, the slight stiffness in your smile. He paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his features as he tried to gauge whether his message had been misunderstood. "Yes, of course," he agreed, his voice faltering slightly as he picked up on your emphasis on Elle. Disappointment edged into his heart, sensing a barrier he hadn't anticipated—one that perhaps wasn't his to cross just yet.

He nodded slowly, offering a gentle smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll send you the details later then," Spencer added, stepping back to give you space, his mind busy piecing together where the conversation had veered off track.

Thursday while you were digging through old case files in the archives, Spencer wandered in, ostensibly looking for a book. He lingered by your side, helping to shift the heavy tomes. "You know, there's this book on cognitive science I think you'd really like. It talks about pattern recognition and emotional intelligence in ways I think you'd find fascinating," he offered, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a different file.

"Sounds intriguing," you responded, your attention still partially on the file in your hands. The hint of a smile played at the corners of your mouth, touched by the realization that Spencer was not only paying attention to your interests but was actively thinking about ways to engage with you on a more personal level.

"I could lend it to you. We could discuss it over coffee?" Spencer's suggestion came with a hopeful undertone, as gentle and tentative as the expression in his eyes.

Your reaction, however, was immediate and unexpected—a sudden choke on your spit as his words caught you off guard. A brief fit of coughing ensued, and Spencer's concern was quick to surface. He reached out instinctively, placing a comforting hand on your back with a gentle touch. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.

The unexpected contact made you jolt, a reflexive response to the sudden intimacy of his touch. Realizing your reaction, Spencer quickly withdrew his hand, a flash of disappointment crossing his features as he stepped back, giving you space.

"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," you managed to laugh it off, though your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You tried to smooth over the moment, still recovering from the unexpected cough and the even more unexpected contact.

Spencer's response was gentle, a soft nod accompanying his words. "It's okay, I'll, uh, see you upstairs," he said, stepping back with a hesitant smile. His decision to not press the coffee invitation further reflected his respect for your comfort, but inwardly, he felt he might have missed his opportunity for the day.

As he turned to leave, the brief contact and your embarrassed reaction replayed in his mind, leaving him wondering about the right approach to take next time. His intentions had been straightforward, but the execution hadn't gone as smoothly as he hoped. The way your eyes had widened, the laughter that followed the cough—it all suggested a mix of emotions that he couldn't quite decipher.

Watching him walk away, you felt a pang of regret. His retreat made you realize that your reaction might have been misinterpreted as discomfort, rather than the surprise and nervous excitement you actually felt. The idea of discussing a book over coffee with Spencer genuinely appealed to you, and you wished you could convey that without the awkwardness of the moment overshadowing it.

Gathering your thoughts, you considered reaching out to him later to clarify your interest, maybe even suggest a specific day for that coffee. The day hadn't gone as either of you planned, but it wasn't over yet, and perhaps there was still a chance to turn it around.

Friday afternoon as you both waited for the elevator, Spencer tried again, this time a bit more directly. "Did you know that the probability of meeting someone compatible is surprisingly high within work environments?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to steady the rapid thumping of your heart. "Really now? I guess we’re in the right place, then."

"Yes, exactly," Spencer agreed, a bit more eagerly than you expected. "It’s like... finding the right piece in a puzzle."

"Like solving a case?" you asked, your voice shrinking with uncertainty, afraid that, once again, he had someone else in mind—someone who fit into his world effortlessly, maybe a profiler like Elle.

"Yeah," he smiled warmly, his eyes soft as they focused on you. "Just like solving a case."

Your heart cracked a little at his words. You interpreted the metaphor differently, convinced he was searching for someone like the other brilliant profilers on the team—someone you believed you could never be. With a forced smile, you said quietly, "Well, looks like you need a profiler-shaped puzzle piece then."

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as you stepped into the elevator. He stood there, frozen, not understanding the weight behind your words or why you seemed so distant.

As the elevator doors slid shut, he replayed the conversation in his mind, his heart sinking as he realized something wasn’t connecting. He had been trying to tell you, in his own way, that he was interested in you, that you were the piece he was talking about. But somehow, despite his best efforts, the message kept slipping through your fingers. Why weren’t you getting it? Why did every attempt seem to fall short?

Spencer watched the elevator descend, a sinking feeling settling in his chest. He had been so certain of his feelings for you, and yet, with every attempt, it felt like they drifted further away, lost in the unspoken misunderstandings between you.

—

When the freshly bronzed trio returned from their vacation, Spencer, seemingly on edge, wasted no time in seeking out Elle, his face etched with a mix of hope and frustration.

“So? Did you do it?” Elle asked eagerly as soon as they were within speaking distance, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Did she say yes?”

Spencer’s response was laden with disappointment. “Every time I try to ask her out, she thinks it’s a friendly suggestion, or—or she even mentioned you one time like I was thinking about you!” He ran his hand through his hair in exasperation, clearly puzzled by the recurring miscommunication.

Elle couldn’t help but laugh slightly, though her lips were closed, trying to mask her amusement at the situation. Spencer, on the other hand, whined in annoyance, “What?” He genuinely didn’t understand what he was missing.

With a fond smile, Elle prodded further, “Reid, how did you ask? And what did she say?” Her voice was gentle, coaxing him to unpack the details.

Spencer recapped all the moments from the past week—the coffee machine incident, the lunch invitation, the casual chat in the archives, and the awkward elevator conversation. Each retelling showcased his subtle, cerebral approach to what he thought were clear invitations.

“Oh, boy genius,” Elle said teasingly once he finished, her tone light but her words cutting to the heart of the issue. “I think I see the problem here.”

“What? What is it?” Spencer asked, desperation and confusion in his voice.

Elle placed her hand on his arm, a gesture meant to be comforting but one that did not escape your notice, intensifying the ache in your heart. “She thinks you’re interested in me!” Elle revealed, her insight sharp.

“Why would she think that?” Spencer asked, his bewilderment evident. The connection between his actions and your perception seemed utterly foreign to him.

Elle’s explanation was straightforward, “Because, Spencer, every time you make an attempt, it’s so subtle and wrapped in layers of intellect that it’s easy for her to miss the romantic intent.”

Her words seemed to pierce through the fog of confusion surrounding Spencer. The realization that his attempts at expressing romantic interest were getting lost in translation—or rather, lost in his own intellectual approach—was a revelation. He nodded slowly, the gears turning as he processed this new insight.

“Plus, if she’s mentioning me and no one else, she must think you’re looking for ways to take me out!” Elle added, emphasizing her point with a light chuckle, though her eyes remained sympathetic to Spencer’s plight.

The weight of Elle’s explanation settled heavily on Spencer. It dawned on him how his interactions, though well-intentioned, might appear to others, especially to you. His style, inherently analytical and often indirect, had inadvertently sent the wrong signals, steering your thoughts towards a narrative where he was interested in Elle rather than clarifying his feelings for you.

This misunderstanding struck a chord within him. Spencer had always prided himself on his communication skills when it came to the nuances of unsubs and case theories. Yet, here he was, stumped by personal emotions and interpersonal communications that veered off course.

“Okay, so... I’ve been too subtle,” Spencer acknowledged, almost to himself as much as to Elle. “And she’s misreading the subtlety as disinterest—or worse, interest directed at someone else.”

Elle nodded, squeezing his arm gently. “Exactly, Spencer. You’re thinking like a profiler trying to decipher hidden meanings, but sometimes, directness is key. Maybe it’s time to just tell her how you feel, plainly and clearly. No puzzles, no hints.”

“But—but what if she’s not interested?” Spencer stammered, the creeping sense of insecurity wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. His confidence from earlier was starting to erode. “I mean, she did turn me down on multiple occasions,” he added, his voice softening with self-doubt.

Elle sent him a playful glare, her expression one of disbelief. “Be serious, Reid,” she said, her tone firm but affectionate. “Everyone here can see that she’s into you. Ask anyone.”

Without giving Spencer a chance to stop her, Elle raised her voice, calling across the room, “Hey, JJ!”

Spencer's eyes widened in panic, his face flushing. “Elle! No!” His voice cracked as he tried to stop her, but it was too late.

JJ approached the two of them, a curious smile on her face as she looked between Spencer and Elle. “What’s up, you guys?” she asked, her easy going demeanor not yet aware of the situation she was about to walk into.

“Do you think Y/N is into anyone? Should we set her up?” Elle asked with a mischievous smirk, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.

JJ’s reaction was immediate—she burst into laughter, glancing between Elle and the now-mortified Spencer. “Are you kidding?!” she laughed, unable to believe the question was even being asked.

“No! Do you have anyone in mind?” Elle pushed, her smirk widening as she kept the act going.

Spencer looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, his mortification plain as he stood there frozen. His mind raced, desperate to find a way to steer the conversation away from himself. But JJ, still chuckling, fixed her gaze directly on Spencer, her expression turning to amused confusion.

“Spencer? Duh! She’s basically in love with you!” JJ declared, her blunt response leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Spencer blinked in disbelief, his mind stumbling over the directness of JJ's words. "W-What?" he stammered, his heart pounding in his chest.

JJ just shook her head, laughing softly. “Reid, it's so obvious. Trust me, you should ask her out.”

"Right," Spencer exhaled heavily, the weight of his nerves tangible in that single word. His eyes followed JJ as she walked away, her knowing smile and shake of her head a clear sign that she was rooting for him.

Elle, observing the entire interaction, turned back to Spencer with a look of determination. “Do you believe me now? You just need to be blunt,” she said firmly, reinforcing the advice with her unwavering gaze. Her stance was one of staunch support, wanting to push Spencer past his habitual overthinking.

Spencer nodded, feeling a bit more fortified by the support of his colleagues. Elle’s insistence on being blunt was exactly the nudge he needed. It was clear that subtlety had not served him well in this arena, and it was time for a change in strategy.

—

Throughout the week, Spencer made several more attempts to ask you out, each time with a bit more directness than the last, but somehow the message never quite landed. Each time deepening his frustration and your oblivious disappointment.

Spencer joined you at the coffee machine again, a site of many a casual encounter but today, he was armed with determination. "I was thinking," he began, carefully measuring his words, "that maybe you and I could try that new café downtown this Saturday."

You smiled, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, your mind on a deadline you were close to missing. "That sounds like a great break from work. It’ll be good to get the team out and about. Should I send an email to everyone?"

Spencer’s heart sank a little. "Uh, well, I meant more like a... never mind. Yes, let’s get everyone involved," he conceded, hiding his disappointment.

In the midst of discussing a particularly complex case, Spencer tried to weave in a personal invitation as naturally as he could. "And after we wrap this up, maybe you’d like to join me for dinner? I know a place that’s quiet, great for discussing... cases."

You nodded, focused intensely on the case details. "Oh yeah! I already told Pen I’d grab dinner with her after the case, do you want to join us?"

Spencer’s heart sank just a bit as he adjusted his glasses, a gesture that had become a telltale sign of his internal resignation. His intention of a quiet dinner, meant to create a private space for you and him, vanished with your invitation to Penelope. Still, he managed a smile, not wanting his disappointment to show.

“Sure, that sounds great,” Spencer replied, trying to keep his tone light and cheerful. Inside, however, he was strategizing his next move, wondering how he could ever convey his feelings without the constant backdrop of the team.

As the day progressed, his mind kept circling back to the conversation. He appreciated your inclusiveness—always making sure no one felt left out, a trait he admired deeply. Yet, he couldn’t help but wish for a moment where it could just be the two of you, away from the dynamics and distractions of the team.

As you both walked to the parking lot after a long day, Spencer decided to be as clear as he could. "I enjoy spending time with you," he said earnestly. "I was hoping we could maybe go out this weekend, just you and me. What do you think?"

You paused, turning to face him with a puzzled smile, unaware of the mounting frustration behind his calm demeanor. "Sure. What do you want to do? I heard of a nightclub that's supposed to have a disco on Saturdays, we could see if everyone is interested?”

Spencer’s patience, worn thin from repeated attempts, finally faltered. “That doesn’t really sound like my scene,” he replied, a note of desperation creeping into his voice as he motioned between the two of you. “Could we go somewhere more subdued? Just us?”

The simplicity of his request, paired with the intensity of his gesture, made you pause. "You want to hang out? With just me?" you asked, a hint of confusion lacing your words.

“Yes!” Spencer exclaimed, his voice echoing a bit louder than he intended in the quiet space between conversations around you. His hands were in the air, a gesture of his exasperation and earnestness. Realizing how his reaction might have seemed, he quickly lowered his hands and softened his tone. “I mean, yes, I would like to spend time with you. Just us. Maybe somewhere quiet where we can talk. Just... talk.”

Your heart was beating so fast you could barely contain it, “Just the two of us?” 

The realization struck you fully now, the words "just the two of us" hanging in the air, tinged with possibility. Spencer nodded, his eyes earnest and hopeful, watching for your reaction.

"Yes, just the two of us," he confirmed, his voice steadier now, filled with a quiet intensity. His gaze never wavered from yours, as if trying to convey all the sincerity he felt directly into your heart.

Your heart raced with the understanding of what he was asking, the implications of this simple request suddenly reshaping the narrative you had constructed in your mind about his feelings. The thought that Spencer, with his brilliant mind and shy demeanor, wanted to spend time alone with you, not for a case discussion or team outing but for something personal, sent a thrill of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation through you.

"Yeah, Spencer," you grinned, your heart still racing but excitement slowly overtaking your nerves. "That sounds nice. Um, I'm free Saturday."

"Saturday works for me," Spencer nodded, his own smile broadening with quiet confidence. "I'll call you?"

You nodded quickly, almost too eagerly, but you didn’t care. "Yeah, mhm, that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both stood there, a shared anticipation buzzing in the air between you, neither wanting to break the connection just yet. When Spencer finally turned to leave, you found yourself smiling uncontrollably, the prospect of Saturday lingering in your mind, a warmth spreading through you that hadn't been there before.

—

Your excitement about the upcoming date with Spencer bubbled within you, yet you chose to keep it close to your chest. The thrill of it all felt so fragile, like a dream you didn’t want to jinx by sharing too soon with the rest of the team. This cautious optimism marked your days, turning ordinary moments into a series of hopeful glances at the calendar as Saturday approached.

Meanwhile, Spencer found himself seeking counsel from Elle, who was all too eager to lend her expertise, not just on potential date activities but on the more intimate aspects of dating as well, particularly women. Knowing Spencer’s limited experience—his only kiss having been with Lila Archer during a particularly intense case—Elle took it upon herself to offer some advice.

“Okay, Spencer, listen,” Elle began, her tone both serious and sisterly. “If the moment feels right and you think you want to kiss her, make sure you read her signals. It’s all about mutual understanding and respect, right?”

Spencer nodded, absorbing every word. Elle continued, “Make eye contact, see how she responds. If she seems receptive, maybe lean in halfway and let her meet you the rest of the way. It’s a two-way street.”

“Halfway,” Spencer repeated, mentally noting the advice. Elle’s directness and her willingness to discuss these details without any embarrassment provided him with a strange comfort.

“And, Reid, just be yourself. You’re a great guy. Let that show,” Elle added, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Spencer felt nerves and gratitude at Elle’s advice, it was straightforward and practical, and helped ground him. He trusted her judgment, appreciating her sharing of her personal experience, especially when it came to navigating relationships—something he found infinitely more complex than the most puzzling cases.

—

The phone call on Saturday morning added to the bubbling excitement of the upcoming date. Spencer’s voice was clear and a tad nervous, which you found endearing. He promised a unique experience and asked you not to wear black, a request that piqued your curiosity and set your mind racing with possibilities. What kind of place would require such a specific dress code? The mystery only heightened your anticipation.

You quickly texted him your address, along with a playful note about your curiosity regarding the attire guidelines. Spencer replied with a simple smiley face, keeping the details of the date under wraps, which intrigued you even more.

As you prepared for the evening, you chose an outfit that was comfortable yet charming, avoiding black as instructed. The time leading up to Spencer’s arrival seemed to crawl by, each minute stretching longer than the last. You found yourself glancing at your reflection, adjusting your hair, and double-checking everything, ensuring you were ready when he arrived.

Finally, the sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Glancing out the window, you saw Spencer stepping out of his car, looking around with a nervous excitement that matched your own. 

As you stepped outside, your nerves fluttered slightly, but your smile was genuine when you saw Spencer waiting by his car. Waving shyly, you greeted him, "Hi, Spencer."

Spencer looked up, his eyes lighting up as he took in your appearance. "Y/N, you look great," he breathed out, his compliment wrapped in a warm smile that seemed to ease some of the tension between you.

"Thanks, I like your cardigan," you replied, noting the soft, well-worn cardigan he wore that somehow made him look even more approachable and endearing.

His smile widened at the compliment, and he seemed to relax a bit more. "Thanks! It's an old favorite," he admitted, holding the car door open for you. 

As you both stepped into the cozy, softly-lit space filled with the gentle sounds of purring and the occasional meow, Spencer immediately began sharing interesting facts about cats. “Did you know that ancient Egyptians considered cats sacred and even had a goddess named Bastet who was depicted as a lioness?” he said, looking into your eyes as you walked past a playful tabby.

Your response was a mix of admiration and amusement. “I didn’t know you were an expert on ancient cultures too,” you teased, feeling comfort and excitement as Spencer chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the opportunity to share his knowledge.

While playing with a particularly friendly cat, Spencer used the opportunity to flirt in his unique way. He gently lifted the cat, holding it out towards you. “It’s interesting how animals can facilitate social interactions, isn’t it? For instance, it's been found that people are more likely to engage in conversations in the presence of animals. They act as social lubricants.”

You laughed, reaching out to pet the cat and feeling a bit flustered by his proximity and the way he looked at you when talking about social dynamics. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you needed a furry wingman for our date?”

Spencer grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Maybe, but it seems to be working, doesn’t it?”

“I don't know, say lubricant again,” you teased. Spencer's grin widened at your playful challenge, and the atmosphere between you sparked with a shared humor that made the moment light and enjoyable. 

He leaned in slightly, adopting a mock-serious tone, "Lubricant," he repeated, emphasizing the word, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You laughed even harder, your eyes bright with amusement. "Hearing you say 'lubricant' is so funny!"

Spencer, caught up in your joy, couldn’t help but laugh along. “Why?” he asked, his own grin wide as your laughter proved infectious.

"It’s just... it can be a dirtier word," you giggled, trying to explain through your laughter. "And I can’t imagine our resident genius using the word lubricant!"

Spencer's laughter joined yours, ringing out genuinely as he caught the playful jab. The lightness of the moment brought a relaxed glow to his features. "I assure you, the application of the word was purely scientific," he teased back, still chuckling. 

The café around you seemed to buzz with the warmth of your shared amusement, creating an intimate bubble amidst the quiet hum of other patrons and the soft padding of cat paws. "I suppose," Spencer continued, his smile lingering, "I should be more careful with my vocabulary around you. You're giving me a whole new perspective on language."

Your laughter gradually subsided into a series of light chuckles, but your eyes were bright with delight. "I think I like this side of you, Spencer," you said, a playful sincerity in your voice. "It’s nice to see you in a different light, not just as the genius profiler but also someone who can joke around about...lubricants."

Spencer's eyes softened, clearly touched by your words. "I'm glad," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of appreciation. "It’s not often I get to show this side, and I’m happy to share it with you." 

As you observed the cats seemingly gravitate towards Spencer, who seemed both amused and delighted by their attention, an idea sparked in your mind. It was the perfect segue into a lighthearted flirtation, mixing your shared love for animals with a touch of mystical charm.

"You know, it’s said that animals, especially cats, have a keen sense of good and bad," you started, watching Spencer's reaction as a particularly fluffy cat chose his lap as its new throne. "They're often drawn to people with good auras. I guess they must sense something pretty great about you."

Spencer looked up, his expression a mix of surprise and pleasure at your comment. He laughed softly, a sound that warmed you to the core. "Is that so? Well, I must be on the right track then. Maybe they sense my excellent choice in company for this evening," he replied smoothly, his gaze locking with yours in a moment charged with a gentle intensity as a cat nuzzled its way into your lap as well.

Your heart fluttered slightly at his words, and you smiled, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Oh, so we’re using cat behavior to gauge our decisions now?" you teased back, leaning in a little closer. "In that case, I think they’re on to something because I’m feeling pretty good about my choice too."

Spencer’s smile widened, and he reached over to gently nudge a playful kitten back onto the table, his actions thoughtful and tender. "I'll take that as a high compliment, coming from someone who clearly knows her way around cats and their mysterious ways," he said, his voice soft but filled with an underlying warmth that suggested he was as affected by the exchange as you were.

As the evening wound down, and the café began to prepare for closing, Spencer drove you home. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself sharing little anecdotes from your childhood, while Spencer listened intently, always eager to learn more about you.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of your home. The end of the evening had come too quickly, a sentiment you both silently acknowledged as you lingered at the doorstep, not quite ready to say goodbye.

"Y/N...I had a really nice time today," he said, his voice carrying a warmth that seemed to wrap the evening in a perfect close.

"Me too, Spencer, thank you for asking me. I was kind of shocked," you admitted, your words sincere and open. The evening had unfolded beautifully, but part of you had still been wrestling with the disbelief that it was all really happening.

"Really? Why?" Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his gaze intent on you, wanting to understand more.

You smiled shyly, a nervous habit kicking in as you rubbed behind your ear. "I just... liked you for so long, I never thought you were interested in me too," you confessed, the words tumbling out more easily than you'd expected. The truth had been a quiet companion for so long, and saying it aloud to Spencer felt both freeing and terrifying.

Spencer's expression softened even further, a gentle understanding coloring his features. "Y/N, I’ve been trying to ask you out for two weeks," he confessed. His chuckle was light, trying to ease the tension.

Spencer's revelation brought a mix of relief and amusement. "Really? I had no idea you were trying," you replied, a smile breaking across your face, reflecting both the surprise and joy of the moment.

He nodded, a bit of sheepishness showing through his usual composed demeanor. "Yes, it turns out I'm not as skilled in expressing personal interest as I am with criminal profiles," he admitted, his light laughter mingling with yours.

The air between you felt lighter, a shared understanding dawning that, despite the initial miscommunications, there was a genuine and mutual interest. "Well, I'm glad you kept trying," you said, your tone sincere. "And I'm sorry I didn't pick up on it sooner. I guess I was just scared to get my hopes up."

Spencer reached across the small space between you, his hand hesitating just a moment before gently taking yours. "No more missed signals, okay? Let's promise to be more straightforward with each other," he suggested, his gaze steady and reassuring.

You nodded, squeezing his hand in agreement, feeling a warmth spread through you at the contact. "It's a deal," you responded, your heart feeling both settled and exhilarated by the new promise laid between you.

“So... in honor of being straightforward…” Spencer began, his voice soft but steady, a shy smile playing on his lips. He stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours, a quiet vulnerability in his gaze. Gently, he took both of your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart raced, the moment feeling both tender and surreal. The way he held your hands, the genuine care in his voice—it was everything you'd hoped for, wrapped in Spencer’s uniquely thoughtful way. You felt yourself nod before you even spoke, your breath catching slightly. “Yes,” you whispered, smiling softly, your eyes never leaving his.

Spencer’s smile deepened with relief and excitement. Slowly, he leaned in, his movements deliberate and gentle, giving you every moment to close the gap as well. When your lips finally met, it was soft, sweet, and full of the promise that had been building between you for so long. The world seemed to pause, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, intimate moment, finally aligned in your shared feelings.

When you pulled back, there was a brief silence before you both laughed lightly, the tension melting away completely. "That was… nice," Spencer said, his voice low, his smile radiating warmth. 

"Yeah, it really was," you agreed, still feeling the butterflies in your chest as you held onto his hands just a little tighter. 

“Oh, and for the record,” Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your reaction, “I don’t like Elle—romantically, of course. She’s my best friend.”

Your face flushed with sudden embarrassment, realizing he'd caught on to your earlier assumptions. “Oh, I—well, uh...” you stammered, struggling to find the right words.

Spencer's smile remained soft and reassuring. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he said warmly, squeezing your hands gently. “Elle is super gay, not sure how you missed that, and... I really like you.”

His words, so genuine and direct, melted away the last bit of tension you’d been holding onto. You laughed lightly, the awkwardness dissolving into relief. “Well, that’s good to know,” you said with a grin, finally allowing yourself to fully relax into the moment.

Spencer's grin mirrored yours as he added, “I just wanted to clear that up. No more misunderstandings.” His gaze softened as he looked at you, the weight of unspoken feelings now out in the open. 

“No more misunderstandings,” you agreed, feeling the warmth of his words and the certainty that everything between you was finally where it should be.

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[quartings]

The original Gravity Falls pitches and pilot just dropped!!

(Link for those who want it)

For those who don't wanna look through all of it, here are some highlights I found!

Interesting changes from the pitch (What Alex Hirsch showed Disney to make them greenlight the show):

Stan’s secret was that he’s secretly protecting the townsfolk from weirdness, nothing to do with Ford. No mention of Ford in the pitch at all. Stan also wanted Dipper and Mabel to be his successors in this version.

Mabel used to be the unhygienic one instead of Dipper.

Wendy was brunette and didn’t work as the Mystery Shack cashier, instead selling veggie juice out of her van.

As such, Soos (Jesús in this version) worked the register in addition to his handyman job in this version. He was a bit less of a hard worker here, watching telenovelas on the job sometimes, but still loves his job and is extremely loyal to Stan.

Robbie was almost exactly the same, parents’ backstory and all, but there’s an interesting note that he occasionally clashed with Gideon in this version (which we never got in the final show)

Speaking of which, Gideon’s last name in this version was Garrymore instead of Gleeful.

Gideon used to personally harass and prank Stan, going out of his way to vandalize Stan’s stuff himself.

Manly Dan was always planned to be Wendy’s dad. In this version, he hates the idea that his hipster daughter prefers conserving the environment instead of chopping down forests

(For those who wanted more Wendy episodes, I’m surprised Hirsch didn’t use this as a conflict for one of them- it makes her interesting without costing any of her “coolness”)

Sheriff Blubs was originally Sheriff “Blumps”. Durland has the same name likely because Hirsch said he’s named after a real guy.

With no Ford and no Journal mentioned, episodes were originally very different-

“The President’s Cabinet/Irrational Treasure.” Instead of via the journal, Dipper and Mabel find a record of Quentin Trembley in a box buried in the yard. No Pacifica mentioned here.

“Secret Dungeon” Dipper becomes obsessed with a recalled arcade cabinet. Mabel must try and save him by finding the original high scorer.

“Thtupid Thursday” One of the many ‘Shining Twins’ episode concepts Hirsch wanted to do. Dipper and Mabel learn ‘twin telepathy’ from some creepy twins, and soon regret it.

“Periodic Mabel” Mabel invents her own element for the science fair and Dipper is jealous.

“Only the Clonely/Boyz Crazy” The exact same episode just without Candy and Grenda. Sev’ral Timez is called “ReelBoyzzz” in this version.

“Big Dipper” With surprisingly no tie to Little Dipper, Dipper asks a fortune teller to make him older so he can win Wendy over. But she makes him 22, so he and Mabel have to undo the spell.

“Sweater off Dead” Mabel buys an antique sweater and is possessed by the soul of the granny who last wore it. Stan is terrified by the spirit because she reminds him of his ex-wife Marilyn (Deep Edalyn Clawthorne lore???) so Dipper must “Swexorcize” his sister and save her.

“Teed Off/The Golf War” With no Pacifica, this was originally a Dipper vs Gideon episode- No Lilliputtians, either. Instead, the 13th hole is cursed and traps the cast in a time loop.

Now, changes from the Production Pitch (I’m guessing for when the show was already greenlit and this was a way to brief crew members on what the show would 100% be about)

Stan’s secret (likely the portal) and the journal are now set in stone.

Emphasis on continuity and character development. Nothing gets “reset” by next episode. All plot developments are permanent.

All character names and designs are locked in. Pacifica has now been added, as well as Waddles, Gompers, Lazy Susan, Candy and Grenda, and McGucket (No mention or hint at his past here)

Interesting to note is that there is still zero outright mention of Ford and Bill in this version, even though multiple episodes were seemingly in production at this point.

Manly Dan’s conflict with Wendy from the original pitch is still here. Making it even more mindblowing that we never got it in the show

Blubs and Durland are described as a little more playful instead of mean like in the original pitch.

All episode examples made it into the show with no changes this time. They are Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Fight Fighters, Boyz Crazy, and The Land Before Swine.

[thanergetic-hyperlinks]

Hey, so I was just thinking.

About how Gideon's body didn't decay for months. Even though her soul was no longer in it. Because her body had limitless thalergy. Because it grew from God's sperm, which (like his blood) didn't decay in a Petri dish for weeks because every cell in his body is immortal even if away from him.

(I have questions about dandruff and body hair. If he sheds them. Maybe being a fountain of thalergy means he never sheds anything, every eyelash perfectly in place forever. Still, you'd expect some skin to flake out from sheer use? A lot of common house dust is human skin iirc. Unless… he's made his skin diamond-strong like Kiriona and we just didn't know because Harrow didn't notice and nobody can see Jod's magic anyway.)

Anyway, despite this… Kiriona looks dead? Did her body look dead when it was with BoE, or did it only look dead after Jod did whatever weirdness he had to do? Judith doesn't describe it, sadly, beyong saying it doesn't rot. So… were her body's tissues as freshly-dead, just caught in necro stasis at the exact time of death, therefore maybe easy to revive…?

Would Jod and Alecto's death render Gideon merely a mortal (provided someone fixes her heart and does away with the flesh construct trappings, so her soul can inhabit it normally)? Would, say, ripping Jod's soul out of his body (into Hell or somewhere else, like with that RB drawn into a black hole) mean his body stays alive but inert, therefore leaving Alecto and Gideon alive without them needing to die? (Though Alecto sounds like she's ready to die, if the River is restored or whatever, so I'm not saying this is the endgame—I'm not even a big believer in “they're gonna kill God” as an Alecto prediction.)

Speaking of—if the events of GtN had never taken place, would Gideon ever have… grown old? Would she simply have died a very old, very healthy woman, or would she have reached peak development and then sort-of stayed 25 forever, to the Ninth or the Cohort's growing bafflement?

@mayasaura @katakaluptastrophy opinions lol

[miley1442111]

confession- s.reid

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a/n: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 1K I LOVE Y'ALL, also my lc is over!!!! expect more stories more frequenrly and I'll finally get around to clearly m y drafts and finishing my TTPD series! also working on finishing my spencer reid series so yay!

summary: spencer's birthday was supposed to be fun for him and his girlfriend, what happens when his mentor (his girlfriends father) shows up at his door?

pairing: spencer reid x fem! gideon! reader

warnings: complicated family relationships, heavy making out, suggestive mentions, that's all

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

“Spence-” you whispered into his mouth. God, this felt good. After not seeing you for 3 whole days, here you were making out on his couch like you two were hormonal teenagers.

He didn’t exactly mind though, and it seemed you didn’t either. Plus, you being here and the birthday gift you gave him (a doctor who box set and a blowjob) made this his best birthday yet. 

“So pretty,” he whispered against your lips as your hands messed up his perfectly styled hair. 

You took his glasses off his face and kissed him harder again, his moaning becoming unbearably hot. 

An ice bucket would’ve been an easier way to crush Spencer’s libido, but the loud ring of the doorbell brought you both out of the heated moment, and actually made you jump off his lap. You scrambled to pull your cardigan over yourself, and Spencer groaned out in frustration, the blood running back to his brain. 

“Coming!” He called as you dressed yourself. He grabbed his glasses, tried to straighten out his hair, and prepared himself to mentally curse whoever this was. It was 11pm, it was a weeknight, you two had already gotten your delivery order, and no one was supposed to come over. 

Who the fuck was at his door then?

Jason. Jason Gideon was standing at his door, and his soul left his body. 

He let out an involuntary scream which made you and Jason scream back. All were small, but distinct sounds, and Jason’s interest was piqued. 

“You have someone here?” He whispered. 

“J-just my girlfriend,” Spencer admitted. He’d never told anyone who his girlfriend was, especially not that she was his mentor’s daughter. “You can come in if you want?”

“Oh, I can finally meet the woman behind Doctor Reid-”

“No! S-she’s sick right now,” he squeaked. “She’s just… resting up.”

You had sprinted into the bedroom when you heard your dad’s voice and thank god you had, or else you would’ve been caught. 

“Wow, love really does defy all odds, you don’t even touch us when we’ve been fully sanitised,” Jason laughed. 

“ ‘We’, who’s ‘we’?”

“The rest of the team,” he nodded. “They’re coming up after me.”

“W-why?” Spencer picked at his nails as Jason smiled at him. 

“It’s your birthday Spencer, we wanted to throw a party,” he chuckled. 

“But it’s 11pm at night?”

“And we have another case,” Jason sighed. “So grab your bag and we’ll have the party on the plane.”

“Oh,” Spencer deflated. He promised he’d spend the next few days with you. You’d taken time off work and everything. And he had to leave, again. “I-is there anyway I could… stay?” 

“Pardon?” Jason stopped in his tracks. 

“It’s just… I kind of promised my girlfriend that I would be here for the next few days since it’s my birthday and-”

“Spencer, it’s fine,” you promised, coming out of his bedroom. You did it without thinking, and now you’re faced with the impending wrath of your father. 

He looked between the two of you, then where you held Spencer’s hand in comfort as you waited for his reaction. 

“You’re dating my daughter, Spencer?” He asked, a certain anger in his tone. 

“Dad, please just-”

“And you didn’t think to tell me it was you who’s keeping my best agent from me?” He turned to you and you rolled your eyes. 

“Spencer is allowed to have a personal life, dad,” you argued as Spencer got increasingly red. 

“And what? You’re the personal life he needs?” He snapped and your face fell. 

“I know you don’t think I’m doing enough with my life dad, but I’m allowed to be happy with my boyfriend. Sorry that pisses you off so much,” you snapped back, anger boiling through you. You’d only really known your dad for the last two years. He’s reached out after your mom died. They’d been broken up for over 20 years. “If you didn’t want a kid, which you clearly don’t, you shouldn’t have reached out when my mom died. I was doing just fine on my own.”

His face twisted into a mix of shame and embarrassment. He didn’t want to make you feel small, he just wanted the best for both of you. “Y/n-”

“You have a case. Go on your case,” you spat, then turned to Spencer. “I’ll text you later.”

“Ok,” he rushed out, then ran off to grab his go-bag and be out of his apartment and out between you two. His girlfriend or his mentor, he was hoping you two wouldn’t make him choose because he knew Jason wouldn’t like his choice. 

Jason held out a hand to stop him. “Stay,” he sighed. “Take care of her.”

And with that your dad left his apartment. 

And with that the first few tears fell. 

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling you in. His heart ached for you. You’d grown up with a horrible family, and you’d begged someone to take you out of it, hoping that your father would show up one day. He didn’t. Not until the funeral. 

“I’m sorry I'm crying on your birthday,” you whimpered, trying to stop. 

“Please don’t apologise, he was being an asshole,” he held you tighter, praying the pain in his chest would go away. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed. “I know I’m not enough- for both of you, and I just… I keep trying but nothing is ever good enough and I’m so sorry Spencer, I really am, I really am trying-”

“You’re more than enough for me. I love you. I adore you,” he reassured you and your heart stopped. 

Well, that was a first. 

“You love me?” You asked, staring up at him.

“Of course I love you,” he nodded, a wonky smile on his face.

“I love you too,” you whispered and his smile turned into a full-on grin. 

“Well, that’s good,” he leant down so that you two were face to face. “Because-”

You cut him off with a kiss. You could taste the saltiness of your tears and you were sure he could too. But you didn’t care.

You loved him. He loved you. 

That would be enough for the both of you. Your dad was a jerk. 

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

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@khxna

[worrywrite]

Let me just...

I don't think I've seen anyone say this about Harrow the Ninth and it has been bothering me.

The bit about Harrow being insane. The way people talk about this, they make it sound like she actually is/was insane. Sometimes people even act like she always has been insane. But there are two things happening outside of Harrow's scope of knowledge during the book that make it clear she is and always has been perfectly sane.

1) the body. It is unclear whether she's actually seeing Alecto or she's hallucinating. But I'm inclined to believe that it's really just Alecto reaching out to her through the river. During this book Harrow is tuned in to the river because she's stuck part of her brain in a bubble there without really knowing it. And I'd be willing to bet Alecto can just do that, just astral project in a way where she can observe anything she wants undetected and has been following John around like that for who knows how long. And then suddenly she comes across Harrow, who can see and hear her projection and who knows who she is (which should not be possible). I'd say this makes even more sense, considering this is the book where Harrow actually reaches out to Alecto to the point where they can swap souls around for a bit (so Nona can happen).

2) Harrow's primary manifestation of insanity in the "is this how it happened" scenes is that she can't read. And so she believes she is insane because she keeps trying to read and she's seeing the wrong things. But these aren't memories like she seems to think they are. These are dreams, a safety mechanism she's accidentally created so she can fend off Wake and prevent herself from remembering Gideon. She's pulled out part of her brain and that bit of her mind and soul is in a massive bubble in the river. When she experiences these scenes, she's asleep. And what can't people do when they're asleep? Process language correctly. This is made more clear when she's able to read correctly while awake; in particular she's able to read her letters to herself as well as the recipes in the cookbooks on the Mithreum (information she couldn't possibly hallucinate because she would have no precedent for it).

Tldr Harrow isn't actually insane. She was just being melodramatic because she couldn't figure out what was really going on.

[ourg0dsal]

Gideon Nav CANNOT Die. Hold on- I know... but give me one second and I'll explain.

So, as I said before Gideon Nav cannot die, or at least her body can't. Cause clearly (spoiler warning) Gideon Nav died at the end of Gideon the Ninth. There is no avoiding that.

But! If you have read all the books GtN, HtN, and NtN including all of the accompanying short stories (tho I will admit I have not read The Mysterious Study of Dr. Sex yet) then there is a better understanding of the timeline of the whole story outside of just what the three main books give you. Specifically and especially with Gideon's body. But also there are many times In Gideons life were she has faced near death events or events that she should not have survived from and still was breathing on the other side.

To go in chronological order of these events, when she was first born she was found in a container held by the air depraved suit of her mother. And while ofc In the book it does state that her mother had redirected her air supply to Gideon, but it is simply being stated to cover all my bases.

Then the 200 sons and daughters massacre when Gideon was 1 (or 2 im not sure) when she inhaled poisonous air without dying. Which led ofc to the Reverend Mother and Father fearing the ground she walked. And this is a big one because, it literally creates waves in the plot. It's a defining point of Harrow and Gideons relationship. That Gideon did not die when she was supposed to.

Later in the story Gideon talks with Pal when she believes Harrow to be a murderer and openly admits to him that "she nearly killed me a half dozen times growing up" which obviously in context was to emphasize on the brutal relationship between her and Harrow. But this could also be other times where miraculously Gideon survived death when she shouldn't have. Because as we know from the first confrontation between Harrow and Gideon. Harrow doesnt hold back for her.

Finally of all the events where Gideon escapes death, this one actually happens within the main story of Gideon the Ninth. When Harrow siphons from Gideon to retrieve one of the challenge keys. And at the end when Gideon passes out, it is narrated ""ha-ha," said Gideon, "first time you didn't call me Griddle," AND DIED." Now, this could obviously just be the snarkiness of Gideon narrating. Or something incredibly clever left behind by Tamsyn Muir for a book series that is so clearly meant to be reread. But ofc to do my rounds the next line after does state "well, passed out. But it felt a hell of a lot like dying." But then immediately after "wake up had an air of ressurection." Which honestly feels like Tamysn Muir teasing the readers at this point. The question then becomes rather, which one was the tease and which one was foreshadowing/ evidence.

Now the point of listing all of these events is that in all of these cases the chances of death are so incredibly high that for most its a miracle she's alive. Ofc most notably for the siphoning trial and the poision gas, but none the less there is proof within the written story and and out that Gideon has looked death in face and moved on with maybe a headache. And it wasn't just in her child hood this is something she can just do. Some recreated in the written story! Because as Pal said. Even with the siphoning challenge done perfectly the chances of leaving Cam with severe brain damage was far to high. And Gideon didn't even suffer that.

Sadly, despite all these Gideon gets to the final battle and fights Cytherea and does die. At the hands of a particularly pointy fence. Or was it truly the fence that did her in? Rather than the lyctorship ritual that was started seconds afterwards.

My full theory, isnt just that Gideon Nav can't die. It's that Gideon Nav wouldn't have been able to die... If Harrow hadn't sucked her soul out. There are at the very least 8 seperate events that Gideon should have died, two of which were nearly gauranteed, but she was ended by a piece of metal. Yes, a very well placed piece a metal, but the point still up to that point she had faced worse a came out unscathed.

If Harrow had not completed the lyctor ritual, Gideon would not have died. Wether or not through resurrection or simply walking it off. Gideon's body has some sort of necromantic attributes to it that keep her alive. We see this in the Untitled Entry short story with Judith Deuteros that describes Gideons body, as it does not rot, cannot be injured, cannot be fed to animals forced or otherwise. And that is all before Jod ever gets a look at the body, because otherwise he would have known Gideon was his daughter before the later events of Harrow the Ninth.

And ofc during the first challenge when Harrow uses Gideon as her eyes to be able to see the construct in the other room and Gideon is able to see the thanergetic signatures that Harrow remarks should be impossible. (I assume because the process is Harrow extracting information (Gideons eyesight) from Gideon and so Gideon should not also be receiving information (the ability to see the signatures)) unless Gideon had some form of necromantic abilities, which she was tested for as a kid and apparently did not have. Alongside not having the correct attitude to be a nun of the ninth. And so we can round it out to be her body being naturally necromantic leaving Gideon without the ability to use it. (Which Is a jump from the actual point we are attempting to use, but for now this stops us from assuming Gideon as any sort of necromantic ability which is a theory all on its own. One that I personally have no evidence for or against)

Now, that I have hopefully made both my Ap Lit and Lang teachers proud with my 3 am essay, I must give you the real tragedy of Gideon the Ninth. Had Gideon not died, had Harrow been unable to complete the lyctor ritual for emotional reasons or otherwise, had Harrow not become a lyctor and killed cytherea. Gideon would have had to watch Harrow and Cam be killed, possibly even Corona, Judith and Ianthe. And then to be used for Cythereas own motives. Tamysn Muir beautifully set up the story so that the best possible outcome could have happened. Had Gideon not died. Everyone else would have. And "Camilla the sixth was no idiot" cam knew and accepted this whereas Harrow never would have. And so the unkillable Gideon had to die, and forcing Harrows hand was the only way to do it.

[melanie-ohara]

I wish everyone would stop saying that Wake doesn't care about Gideon or is a bad mother. We only have Wake's own word - to her greatest enemy, no less! - that she never cared about the baby in the first place, and everything she does after her death runs totally contrary to that anyway.

To start with, she's a soul cut loose from a body by apopneumatism. Revenants tend not to last very long - Harrow didn't believe Palamedes would be able to hang on without a corpus for anything like as long as he did, for instance - but Wake is in that sword for 18 entire years. Yeah, you could argue her hatred sustained her, it seems to be the case that ghosts are fueled by their emotions, but does anyone really believe that hate is enough? In this series? Was it hate that drove Donald Sex to take control of a maintenance skeleton and crawl across the surface of Mercury to break into his study? No.

We get most of our direct understanding of Wake in the sword from Harrow - she's a necromancer, and even if she's not a spirit magician she can still feel Wake's soul. Specifically, she feels her hate. Wake has seen Harrow bully and belittle Gideon her entire life. In Canaan House, Harrow is able to handle the Wake sword well enough to bring it to Gideon without puking her guts up, it's only after Gideon dies for her that the hatred becomes so intense that Harrow can't touch it any more. I don't think it could be more clear that Wake is reacting to how Harrow treats Gideon.

And then there's Gideon herself - she's not a necromancer, but I think she still feels some of Wake's presence. Her longsword is comforting, she associates it with safety and strength, and yes that's because she's trained in its use, but I do not think its a coincidence that at her lowest point, when Isaac is dead and she has Jeannemary screaming in her arms, she wants Harrow, and her mother - the two people she loves most in the universe.

[starberry-cupcake]

I'm back!! and I have a bunch of chapters this time, so let's see how I do with this one.

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general tag

CHAPTER 13 (third house skull for coronabeer)

the sticky notes with little giraffes my sister had gifted me to read nona ran out so I had to get a couple packets of colorful stickies to continue

I bought two packs of 200 each and was like 'this for sure is gonna be more than enough'

I'm not sure of that now, after first use

I think nona might appreciate the colors (and the previous giraffes)

even if they're not tlt aesthetic

ANYWAY, we're leaving the meting with BOE in the not-so-secret-very-obvious-actually meeting place

nona apparently all along knew that el machetes was actually la machetes and her name is our lady of the passion aka pash

coronabeer asks her how she knows that and nona says it's the way she moves her bones

camilla asks coronabeer to let her see "her"

and insists, saying she can help "her"

by this point I'm, of course, thinking about judith

turns out, it is judith

camilla asks if judith is part of the negotiation, to which coronabeer responds that she is not, she's "their ticket out of there"

judith is in an awful state, btw

she's doing really badly, hooked to stuff, fed through tubes, looking like hell

nona feels bad for her

I feel really bad for her

what are you doing to that wet mouse

with no necromancers around, she's the only one who can help herself, and she can't always do it

let's remember coronabeer was a fake necromancer

and, apparently, varun is hurting her

nona states again that she doesn't like the sunglasses and, since camolive are busy, I'm gonna take note of that myself

camolive (which I had stated before that I thought was actually palmolive right now, but here it's still undetermined) asks for some space to work and help judith in this rudimentary medical setting they have her in

coronabeer is being very tsundere about it all

she's acting like she's not worried about the love of her life

but nona is like "I see you"

coronabeer clocks palmolive being himself and not camilla

(I CALLED IT)

palmolive says he hopes she didn't mess up judith on purpose to get him to show himself

you weren't subtle, my man

wearing sunglasses inside like bono

coronabeer says she won't tell anyone about palmolive and camilla sharing the body apartment

she tells palmolive about how camilla, judith and her bonded in summer camp detention with BOE

and how she was grieving for him but, after meeting harrow, she was fine, so she assumed camilla had always been right about the bones thing

the gall of thinking camilla can be wrong

judith can do half of the job of healing herself and needs palmolive to help her with the rest, while she comes in and out of making sense

nona reminds palmolive about the timer

coronabeer reminds judith where she is, but she sometimes gets fuzzy with it

judith tells them that if they say they have been coerced, she'll tell everyone that they didn't meant it

I think we're past that point, but hope is the last thing to lose, judith

coronabeer holds her hand while judith talks about how they're using her to go against her house and when coronabeer says she isn't making sense, she responds that coronabeer hasn't made sense in months

judith says her hands are too filthy to save camilla

nona thinks it's funny to think of someone having to save camilla

same, tbh

and then, she talks to nona

"Ninth, where is the mercy of the Tomb? Where is your sword in the coffin? Who are your masters now, and who do you master? Where is my cavalier, Reverend Daughter? Where is yours? Because I saw her in the waves —she was there in the gray water— I saw them all—they hurt me—where is my hunger? I eat and eat and eat without surcease, my green thing, my green-and-breathing thing..."

SO

I think my tally of this being harrow's body might be correct

not so sure about gideon's soul now, though, if judith is out there seeing her?

in the river? maybe?

she says "in the gray water" so maybe it is the river

maybe she can access the river in her almost-dead state?

or perhaps the one she saw was martita and not gideon?

maybe she could see all of the ghosties, because she said "I saw them all"

how does she know about gideon's sword in the coffin, though?

AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T ANSWER ANY OF MY QUESTIONS

LET ME FAIL

after that, she screams, palmolive puts her to sleep and then he switches with camilla

he puts her/his hand on her shoulder, which is cute

coronabeer then understands that camolive switch places and doesn't like it much

she swears by yandere twin that she won't tell about this and reminds camilla that she has kept her secrets before

wonder what yandere twin is doing rn

swimming in the river maybe idk

kissing dr john's ass and all that

or maybe not, if dr reverend emperor john is out there taking his monologue show on the road with alleged harrow-not-harrow

camilla offers coronabeer an out from BOE but coronabeer is too deep into judith to leave her

she frames it in a tsundere way, like "if something happens to judith, how am I getting out of here?"

I see you coronabeer, you're doomed

you love that wet mouse

coronabeer tells camilla "you and I don't own our own souls"

to which camilla replies "My soul's mine. You give yourself away to anyone who doesn't want you."

coronabeer says she always had a soft spot for palmolive

to which camilla says "you were part of the lie"

I think this has to do with the sixth house situation

nona, trying to make things less tense, makes things even more tense, as a treat

she asks about the water and the green thing that judith mentioned

both camilla and coronabeer look at her as if she was a ghost

coronabeer says "The Captain didn't say anything when you came into the room. She only screamed."

??????????????????????????????????

I had to go back, because judith responded to things palmolive and coronabeer said

after nona touches palmolive's arm and reminds him of the timer, judith asks where she is and coronabeer answers

they have a back and forth there

coronabeer even says she must have some eight in her blood because of the melodrama

she talks about the green thing and the water right after her and coronabeer where having a back and forth on whether they had or hadn't lived

and after she talks to nona/harrow, is when palmolive makes her sleep

so, at which point was this?????

if this is some sixth sense situation, coronabeer and palmolive shouldn't have been able to answer things judith said

and coronabeer very much did

I'm gonna trust they're not gaslighting nona and that something went on here

maybe they meant the screaming was only in the part where judith talks to nona specifically

we'll see

DON'T TELL ME

CHAPTER 14 (we've got the tomb back!)

coronabeer offers to drop nona at school and nona is so excited about it that she doesn't even consider the dangers of jumping out of the van and leaving camilla and pyrrha there

she thinks it's a selfish thing that won't have dangerous consequences because they have a code for when dangerous consequences are imminent

still, gotta put a child barrier on this one

they get spare masks and coronabeer offers nona her hood

coronabeer says that she has as much right to nona as camilla does and that nona isn't that much younger than camilla is, anyway

when nona says that she loves camilla, coronabeer asks if she loves her romantically

not in those adult words I just used, mind you, she says "Do you love love Camilla? In-love-with Camilla?"

use your grown up words, coronabeer

nona, on the other hand, feels out of her depth when spoken to like an adult

so she changes subject, telling coronabeer that camilla isn't coronabeer's type

coronabeer wants to talk about herself, which is a subject she's very passionate about

but it backfires like crazy when nona calls her out on acting flirty without meaning towards we suffer, wanting camilla to hug her but not in a sexy way and being in love with "th—"

this is judith, we're talking about judith

coronabeer is upset at being dissected emotionally and nona says "You shouldn't ask me things if you don't want me to tell you the truth about them"

girllllllllllllllllllllllll

I want this as a welcome mat in my house

coronabeer getting owned like chad over here

third house annihilation, one by one

coronabeer thinks she should ask nona about whether she's pretty and ask yandere twin about emotional things, because that way she'd hear what she wants

this girl would have been a menace with social media

anyway, coronabeer and nona get to school and angel teacher is just coming in

angel teacher is looking worse every time the camera comes back to her

angel teacher is taken aback by coronabeer but doesn't let her meet nona's gang because she's carrying a gun

nona is very disappointed at this turn of events

coronabeer says she's camilla's partner and angel teacher is again surprised at this

nona thinks coronabeer is nearly pretty enough for camilla

nobody is perfect enough for camilla, though

also, over my dead body, coronabeer

go chase your wet mouse, thank you very much

could I beat her in a fight? no, but could make a very compelling power point presentation? absolutely

boobs, hair and a sword vs boobs, hair and a solid dissertation

nona thinks coronabeer should have said nona was dating her instead, because camilla doesn't need the street cred as much as she does

coronabeer says she knows what nona is, even if they refuse to see it, and that she envies nona more than anyone in the universe

I mean, yeah, childish wonder and relentless will to believe in the best of people sounds great right about now

nona is steven universe

CHAPTER 15 (seventh house skull again!!!!! very sus!!!!)

everyone's kind of fighting about having seen coronabeer and sriracha girlie was worried for nona's safety

nona asks her not to be sad if something happens to her

sriracha girle also has the angel teacher update, says she was dropped off by a car this time

sriracha girlie considers this an additional protection towards her, to which nona asks why is angel teacher so special

great question, imo

apparently, everyone but nona, sriracha girlie and kevin are leaving for lunch

main teacher is very confused about this until sriracha girlie informs her that there's gonna be a broadcast

main teacher asks angel teacher about it

(angel teacher's name is apparently aim)

(as in aim for the door if they come for you, angel teacher)

main teacher asks if they're gonna start arrests and they decide to move the conversation to another location, away from the kids

sriracha girlie knows more than they do, though, but ok

we need to protect kevin from this

we love kevin

nona is weird with food again, this time eats only ice cubes and a pencil

at this point, I'm realizing it isn't just me thinking she's particular with food, she indeed is particular with food and also very weird about it

she behaves exactly like our puppy who eats what she shouldn't and we have to be looking at her with 26 eyes because she hunts for snails and pieces of wood

nona asks sriracha girlie what the broadcast is about

as you might have guessed, it's about necromancers

nona tells sriracha girlie that she knows she's been at the park at night and sriracha girlie tells her not to go there, ever

she confirms that the "you-know-what" were killed

says that someone high up took them before they burned, with a shot to the head

sriracha girlie says she goes with two others, nona guesses it's honesty and born in the morning

nona says "Born in the Morning" and sriracha girlie corrects her and says "You mean Born in the Morning"

I don't see how that's different? neither does nona?

???????????

hope this is just a nona pronunciation thing I can't get in written form and not yet another ortus vs gideon thing, I can't take another one of those

it's written exactly the same, once without and once with emphasis

nona asks sriracha girlie if she's with BOE but sriracha girlie also hates them

she calls them traitors but also says they sell them guns

which...idk what to think of that

I mean, I understand the traitors bit, since they're currently in dialogue with necromancers

but selling guns to civilians is definitely A Move from BOE

sriracha girlie talks about how her family was killed and how she trains with a sword because she doesn't want to be caught off guard ever again like her brother was

while also saying that she wishes nona was her sister

god, this is gonna end terribly

sriracha girlie, I don't know about your future

this looks bad

so, nona tells sriracha girlie "her Secret"

????????????????????

sriracha girlie recommends her a clinic where angel teacher works

nona asks her not to tell anyone about it because she's the only one who knows

I assume this Secret isn't that she's potentially one of two people connected with the Ninth because sriracha girlie hasn't stabbed her yet

right in front of kevin's salad

we love kevin

I also don't think it's about her having memory loss, because pyrrha, camilla and the entire BOE know that, and nona says sriracha girlie is the only one who knows

unless she meant only one except for her people

but it wouldn't make sense for her to just say "Secret" and not elaborate, if that was the case??? in her recount of events????

also, why does she need a clinic for it????

nona can heal herself, she can't have a Secret related to anything physically damaging that she'd need a clinic for

the only thing she's got going on is memory loss and being potentially one of two people

neither of which are things nobody else knows about but sriracha girlie and nona

she's not having a baby or having a surprise degenerative disease

am I making too much of a mess out of something obvious?

DON'T TELL ME

I feel like this book is a lot more difficult to grasp than the other two, tbh, when it should be the opposite, because now I know things

it's the first time in which I know supposedly more than the protagonist, but it's the hardest one

it feels so much more complicated to me and makes me feel so stupid so often

in any case, nona falls asleep

none of this sounds like it's gonna be a great time for either of these two

and I don't think trusting someone who has a vendetta against your people is a good idea, nona

if push comes to shove, you're gonna go against each other, and what are we gonna do then???

JOHN 8:1

"but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives."

this is the part in which jesus does the famous "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her"

alleged harrow says her body is a mystery to her and that she'd collapse and fall asleep where she fell and wake wherever dr reverend emperor john put her

alleged!harrow which could be ice cube barbie, for all I know

WAIT

should I put ice cube barbie as another potential occupant of harrow's body as nona?

was there a third option nobody thought of because nobody knew about ice cube barbie but harrow and gideon?

could nona be ice cube barbie without memory?

could they have switched when book 2 ended inside harrow in the vacant tomb?

dr reverend emperor john god-forbid is, like I said, taking his monologue on the road

last time we met up with the monologue, lyctor team had decided to stream the necromancy stuff to put it out in the open

like anyone who has ever depended on social media to do a job knows, when you're trying to make something take off, it doesn't happen

it doesn't matter how good the content is, the algorithm is awful everywhere

so they got like 5 viewers

until one of the people the invited live turned out to be a flat earther and THEN it picked up

after that, people came in for him to heal them and he says he enjoyed playing jesus

he said the government said "this is a cult"

WHICH, YOU KNOW

SOUNDS VERY CORRECT

he says M brought in a nun, gonna assume M is mercygirl and the nun might be anastasia?? anastasia sounds like she was a nun, I mean, look at the ninth

"You've got two scientists and an engineer and a nun and a lawyer and a banker and a cop and an artist. That's not a defence force, that's a cop and six different kinds of nerd."

new meme format just dropped

sorry but I need to try it out

(should I post that separately, I wonder)

it really is a great meme format, dr john, I'll give you that

thank you for your minuscule service

"A and M were making black jokes about taking volunteers from the crowd for the skeleton army. One day we ran out of time before those jokes could become suggestions."

not to bring in star trek again but

so, dr reverend emperor john kills every animal in a big ass radius to build a bone wall around them

he, of course, has a lot of excuses for it, as he usually does

I have another data meme for that, but I'll save it for another time

"They treated us like we'd done some kind of huge crime."

"I wanted to talk about you"

again here with the "you" which clearly cannot be harrow

at least not how we know her

alleged!harrow not!harrow says "I still love you" and he says "that's a good one" and cries

I don't feel bad about him crying one little bit

AND THAT'S ALL!!! sorry that this one is so long, I wanted to make up for lost time T_T

[fleshadept]

can't stop thinking about john gaius being the Great Resurrector and just entirely phoning it in with gideon. she can resist any wound but he didn't close the one that opened her chest, and instead left his fingerpring on it with the teeth. harrow, notably not God, meticulously grew ianthe a full new arm but God, also her Literal Dad, didn't give her a new heart. all she ever wanted harrow to do was eat her but she found out God was her dad and also a dick then he ripped her from harrow's soul (just like he told harrow he couldn’t!) and put her in a half assed verson of her body and made her a revenant of herself. not even a real resurrection. she’s a ghost possessing her own dead body without the freedom palamedes had to move between bodies because she’s Trapped In There. i'd be down to resurrect the only thing that could kill god too

[queereads-bracket]

FINAL: Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

A groundbreaking work of science fiction, The Left Hand of Darkness tells the story of a lone human emissary to Winter, an alien world whose inhabitants spend most of their time without a gender. His goal is to facilitate Winter's inclusion in a growing intergalactic civilization. But to do so he must bridge the gulf between his own views and those of the completely dissimilar culture that he encounters.

Embracing the aspects of psychology, society, and human emotion on an alien world, The Left Hand of Darkness stands as a landmark achievement in the annals of intellectual science fiction.

Science fiction, classics, speculative fiction, anthropological science fiction, distant future, adult

The Locked Tomb series (Gideon the Ninth, Harrow the Ninth, Nona the Ninth, and others) by Tamsyn Muir

Endorsement from submitter #1: "An extremely fun, humorous romp! A heart-breaking, soul crushing catharsis inducing tragedy! A thoughtful piece on imperial structures and trauma. On queerness, Muir flawlessly and without announcement, cracks gender open like an egg and spills its disproven guts across the page. The Locked Tomb does it all also bones, bitch."

Endorsement from submitter #2: "Lesbian necromancers in space. So many fascinating, sort of fucked up sapphic relationships going on."

The Emperor needs necromancers.

The Ninth Necromancer needs a swordswoman.

Gideon has a sword, some dirty magazines, and no more time for undead bullshit.

Brought up by unfriendly, ossifying nuns, ancient retainers, and countless skeletons, Gideon is ready to abandon a life of servitude and an afterlife as a reanimated corpse. She packs up her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines, and prepares to launch her daring escape. But her childhood nemesis won't set her free without a service.

Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House and bone witch extraordinaire, has been summoned into action. The Emperor has invited the heirs to each of his loyal Houses to a deadly trial of wits and skill. If Harrowhark succeeds she will become an immortal, all-powerful servant of the Resurrection, but no necromancer can ascend without their cavalier.

Without Gideon's sword, Harrow will fail, and the Ninth House will die. Of course, some things are better left dead.

Fantasy, science fiction, horror, mystery, humor, series, adult

[cemetegee]

Cemy's Masterpost for TLT Analyses

Analysing things is my love language, so it's clear that I have a whole lot of TLT analyses. I want to collect them in this post, because I have trouble finding them myself. Much fun!

I'm an Ianthe stan

Ianthe and ADHD (my favorite analysis post of mine, I'm serious, it's very me-core)

Corona, Ianthe and the Threat of Killing Oneself

Ianthe is the Underling (she is such a good girl)

Ianthe's the Most Repressed Nun Third I've Ever Seen (Emotionally)

About the Thoughtfulness of Ianthe's Lies

Dying as a Skill Issue (Dying is for suckers, bitch!)

Ianthe apparently knows more than she says

The Unwanted Guest is a Genius Mindfuck (my very first post, click here to meet baby cemetegee)

Ianthe Goes Poetry

Ianthe is not the pure evil, but a very normal person

Ianthe Lore

Could Ianthe see Cytherea's Corpse?

Ianthe is Actually Angry With Harrow because of the Lobotomy

Does Ianthe Have a (Deadly) Disease?

Ianthe Must be Borderline Horny in TUG

Ianthe's relationship to Corona (not gonna lie, probably neccessary to understand the posts above)

The Tridentarii Power Shift Dynamic

"Corona's Con" | Who's in Charge? (Whooo is in ControOoOl?)

Family Ties (or Third House culture?)

Corona hanged herself in in front of her eyes

The Tridentarii & Lolita

A very smart user said the Tridentarii would maybe only *perform* their Tridentariicest (maybe to disgust everybody from further investigations in their relationship?), and I'm OBSESSED with that take

Ianthe's Relationship to Babs

Ianthe and Babs Were Best Buddies (well at least a bit :(...)

Does Ianthe Regret the Murder of Naberius Tern?

Babs Died for her Plot Armor (that's literally the whole post, you don't have to click on the link)

Coronabeth Tridentarius: An Approach to her Character

Coroniphis & Ianthe (the explanatation for Ianthe's name seems to be more connected to Corona than to her)

What in Hell has she Done to Babs?

Than to Love and be Loved by Ianthe the First, Saint of Awe

Corona is a Very Third Person (Nobody Notices Somehow)

Corona has killed Babs (haven't thought of that myself, but I find it interesting)

TLT Mechanics

How Could Cytherea Infiltrate Canaan House Without Being Betrayed by a Missing Thanergic Signature

Who/What is Kiriona Gaia? (my poor saddest girl in the whole world :()

How Could Wake Use Cytherea's body? (Necromantic Explanatation)

Why can Cavs and Necros Use Each Other's bodies? | How Could Palamedes Use Babs body? (just some basic theories about necromancy my friendos)

John "Jod" Gaius

Why Didn't Jod Heal Cytherea's Lung Cancer?

Jod is not Obliged to See Gideon as his Daugther, as Hard as it Sounds (Hear me out) (mostly about questioning blood relation as synonym for family in this case, what is also interesting to me in regard to found families)

Strange Pre-Ressurection Behavior Against Mercymorn

John is not the pure evil, but a very normal person

John was Pretty Fucked Up when he Decided to Kill the world (Correction to what I said in the post: he *did* technically kill her. Pulling out the soul of a body is dying by definition)

Hugs for John (I don't agree with his actions (such as for example killing the world) but his life can't be easy since then)

John 00:00 (Or John has the worst OCD ever known to men, in my opinion, and I apologize him because of that) (Correction: I said in that post John would intend to die. I still think that (see post below) but he likely doesn't intend to die forever)

John has to die for a Second Resurrection [Theory]

Any Thoughts About the Theological Implications of the character John "Jod" Gaius?

TLT Meta

Determinism in TLT

I Would Like to Talk About the Implications of TLT pls pls 👉👈 (pls ignore how much I sound like a snob in that post lol. I AM NOT, that was just me trying to formulate my wish in English :D)

The characters of TLT aren't the pure evil but very normal people

TLT Lore

Pyrrha is a Genius

Alecto Predictions

Alecto X Anastasia: Eightfold Word Light-Light??

[theriverbeyond]

some meandering thoughts on Lyctoral reproduction, contraception, and why I DON'T think Pyrrha hit it raw

this was originally a reblog of another post but it became SO LONG i am just posting it by itself. anyway cracks knuckles:

I think from a reproductive health standpoint the Lyctors are, despite having been exposed to extreme pre-ressurection levels of radiation, not sterile per say, but homeostatically fixed at the point of ascension with any changes made to themselves after that being a concious theorem. See: Cytherea is frozen as sick as she was when she ascended, but when she wanted to fight she could walk around fine, and Harrow when cold, can pad her fat reserves. So they CAN change their bodies, but it's still a Thing They Have To Do vs. a truly autonomous bolidy process.

Also, we know Lyctoral Healing is a thing dependant on nerve fibers -- why a severed limb (Nona/Gideon-in-Harrow aside) is not supposed to automatically regrow (but can be intentionally regrown, with thought and effort), and why in order to imbue Ianthe's bone arm with regenerative power Harrow had to make sure it was properly innervated

(The reason I believe they are not inherently sterile despite having been exposed to massive amounts of radiation is simply because that radiation does not discriminate and would have destroyed the rest of their physical bodies as well. basically, I think any radiation induced infertility would have been fixed in the Ressurection Process, same as the radiation induced. death.)

At the same time, the biological changes a human body must undergo to fertilize an egg and then bring a pregnancy to term are many (on a physical and physiologic level) and all must happen in the correct sequence at the correct time. the adult unaltered, non-Lyctoral body (most of the time) naturally knows how to follow this path, but in order for a Lyctoral Body to bring a pregnancy to term all those minute changes would have to be done manually, lest the Lyctoral Body revert to its homeostatically frozen state.

Therefore, my thoughts are: a Lyctor wouldn't really be able to become pregnant on accident to begin with, much less carry a pregnancy to term unwillingly. Every minute step or shift or change in hormone levels, uterine stretch, etc would have to be manually preformed and then monitored 24/7 which just seems incredibly exausting if not annoying. Then, of course, you have the reality that the Lyctor is going to outlive their child by thousands of years if not forever, and after the catastrophic grief they all carry for their cavaliers I cannot imagine any of them willingly putting themselves in that situation.

why, then, did Pyrrha think Gideon was her child?

WELL! the above theoretical process is specific to a Lyctor becoming pregnant, either from Lyctor or non-Lyctor. For Pyrrha/G1deon, the person who may have become pregnant from their encounters was WAKE, a (as far as we know) physiologically normal human, whose body would be able to like. in the presense of viable sperm, get pregnant the usual way without need for necromantic initiation and maintenence. Not only that, but at the time, Wake could NOT have been taking any sort of continuous contraceptive, as the planning/execution/impregnation of Dios Apate Major/Project Bomb was happening at the same time as Wake was fucking Pyrrha and G1deon. Like I know Mercy gave her the dolls but like Wake was able to turkey baster herself pretty quickly after their failure which means there was an open window of time where Wake was fucking PyrrhaG1deon and definitely fertile.

I could see G1deon as being able to tie off his ductus deferens, or whatever, while he is having sex to prevent physical ejaculation but as we know from Gideon-in-Harrow and Pyrrha-in-G1deon and Cam-when-Pal-Was-Inside, the cavalier's soul cannot preform necromancy whilst in the driver's seat. SO, following that, Pyrrha would be unable to necromantically prevent herself from ejaculating whilst doing the deed.

and finally, we have come to the part where I explain why I do NOT believe Pyrrha was having unprotected sex. as funny it is to imagine them all hitting it raw with a huge breeding kink, given Pyrrha and not to mention WAKE'S general competency (and also like if Wake is trying to get pregnant with the key to the Emperor's Tomb, being already pregnant would have been really inconvinient!!! considering again that the impregnation of ProjectBomb happened at the same time as she was fucking PyrrhaG1deon, Wake HAS to have been taking steps to prevent an unwanted, competing pregnancy), I have to take the controversial position that the condom broke.

Imagine you are a soul fragment, 10,000 years old, and you are betraying your God and Emperor AND your other half, by fucking a rebel comander (using your other half's body) while both of them are unaware. and then the condom breaks. wyd

[the-green-divine]

let's talk about cytherea and harrows apotheosis such as it is.

At the end of GtN, harrow achieves lyctorhood and, despite being the youngest lyctor there, and at least partly an unwilling one, is able to execute cytherea without much effort.

There's the obvious reasoning that says palamades, camilla, and ianthe (a baby lyctor herself) soften cythera up for harrow. Loosening that necromantic jar of evil pickles.

But they don't beat her. Arguably pal comes closest, as harrow notes she can tell he's pushed cythereas condition further. Not enough for either camilla or ianthe to succeed however, and i think that comes down to what harrow and gideon are.

Harrow is a product of the 200. She likely intuitively understands lyctorhood in ways ianthe cant simply bc she hasnt lived it. Harrow has been burning those baby souls her entire life after all.

Gideon is lesbian space Jesus with at least partly the soul of the actual fucking planet she dies on. It's not clear she can die permanently, or that harrow would absorb her minus the lobotomy in HtN. Shes got power and knows the sword. Harrow's got power and knows the body. Together, they are able to end cythereas immortality in a way we dont see anyone but jod accomplish. They join in a way that isnt a one sided parasitic siphoning or a fusion through death of the selves (PAUL). They're both.