#met so many online pals

[stanchett]

apologies for being ia yall, I just got home and… I have a lot to process and recover from. writing starts up again tomorrow ❤️

[switchytransboy]

the ✨worst✨ part about meeting a new tickle community pal, especially since this one’s so local to where i live 😭, is the constant moods after hanging out. the lee/switch/ler moods honestly be so real on a loop and it makes work so 😵‍💫🙈

[sunshineandspencer]

heyyy!! idk if you take requests or anything but I was listening the song “Three Letters” from She Loves Me and heard the line “If it weren’t for your endearing letters/ I’d be flying south will all the geese” and totally thought of Garcia signing up Spencer for a lonely hearts thing (as a kinda joke kinda not) and so he starts writing the reader but don’t know it’s each other. then they agree to meet somewhere and realize it’s each other and?! idk if that makes sense lol thought it was cute though

Three Letters (Request)

A/N: Hello!!!! I definitely do. I just haven’t had the chance to sort it all out (colds and farming sims own my life) but let me tell you this idea has me kicking and screaming. I’ve done something like this before but I can’t find it for the life of me and I love the idea that they’re writing to each other and just don’t realise - I took it as the sense that they’re co-workers and Garcia signed them both up, not expecting them to get each other. I really hope this is what you were looking for!! Also I have never heard of a lonely hearts thing (I’m British) but I love the idea of it, and hope that it’s definitely what google told me it is.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Garcia is tired of Spencer being single, and if the only way to fix that is to sign him up for a singles pen-pal society, then so be it. While she’s at it, let her add their other co-worker as well, there’s no way that could have any impact.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: fluff, implied sa but nothing detailed

be added to the taglist

Some part of him knew that this was a good thing, that talking to someone and hopefully getting a relationship out of this was a good thing.

However, Penelope - loving, caring, thoughtful Penelope - had been hard at work ever since she met him to find him somebody to love. It.. hadn’t gone well, and that is the politest possible way he could’ve phrased that without hurting her feelings.

First there were the dates, with a collection of either Penelope, JJ or Elle’s friends - none of which had turned out great.

In fact, one woman had stormed out the minute she saw him, because she assumed that FBI agents were all muscle and Spencer was the last thing she wanted to see. Another zoned out every single time he started talking, just humming or nodding until even he realised that she wasn’t interested.. she fell asleep in her damn salad. The final straw, however, was the woman who got outrageously drunk and tried to blatantly ignore his aversion to touch.

He got out of that as soon as he found her friend to get her home safely, and swore off ever trusting a date from any of those three women ever again.

Penelope, however, didn’t give up.

Her next plan of attack started online, with dating websites. Notorious in their line of work for usually being full of catfish and UnSubs, and many dating websites led to men and women being murdered. But she’s insistent, and he’s desperate to love somebody.

There are only several things that went better than his first foray into the online dating scene, and one of those is a vehicular fire, which tells you all you need to know.

Several of the women he matched with ended up only looking for someone to help them cheat on their significant others, many of them married. Which made his bright outlook on love slightly dimmer. The final woman from the online dating websites was the woman who turned out to actually be an UnSub - looking for cute young men to complete her ‘collection’, a human version of an antique doll set.

It was not a fun case to take part in, certainly not when he was greeted with the way he would’ve turned out had he met up with the woman and not done a background check on her first.

After that, he firmly shut down Penelope’s insistence on dating apps as well, his technophobia had barely survived having to use a computer for so long, and the library computers were an embarrassing place to try and match with the ‘love of his life’. So an app on his phone. Absolutely not.. he doesn't even know how to do that.

There was a break, a few months where Penelope didn’t try to push him into anything new or exciting, or downright horrifying. He turned twenty-four, he had a failed date with JJ, in which she actually bought along Penelope, and suddenly it all changed.

In his letterbox a couple weeks after that, was a letter. It had his home address on, but not his name, merely addressed to whoever this may concern.

It was gorgeous craftsmanship, a cream envelope with an actual lilac wax stamp on the back, with little flowers pressed into the wax. Of course, assuming this was an incoming case, he called Garcia to try and trace it, where she finally came clean.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot, I signed you up to a lonely hearts club. It’s a small society for two single people to exchange letters anonymously so you can get to know each other over time. It’s all handwritten! I thought you’d like that more than having to use a computer again. I’m sorry pumpkin, I- I can take you out of the society if you like?”

He thought about it, he actually thought about it so long that Penelope actually thought he’d hung up on her, or died, or something else entirely because he’s never this quiet.

But.. how bad could it really be?

It could, theoretically, be terrible, but it can’t hurt to try one last thing. He would have contact with whoever this is - he’s assuming a woman from the handwriting and the care gone into just the envelope alone - and if it all goes to hell then it just wasn’t meant to be.

One last try at love, he can grant himself that. Anonymously, he can do that, give himself a pen name and try to fall for words on a page - his written word was always better than his verbal flirting anyway.

As it turned out, however, he didn’t need to give himself a name, she’d given him one already.

“Hello sweet thing! Sorry if that comes off as too strong already, I’m just incredibly nervous and didn’t know what else to call you, so that is officially your name from now on. Unless you hate it, then you can absolutely tell me and I promise not to cry about it. I really don’t know what to say, do I start with my favourite things? Well.. I like Doctor Who, and I’ve always--”

The more he read of the letter, the more he wished it was even longer. This woman, wherever she is, whoever she is, is starting to make this out as the best idea Penelope has ever had.

He all but crashed his way into the stationary store, grabbing the prettiest envelopes and pens, and little details to add to the letter that he was so excited to add. Steamrolling through the store and getting back home to quickly respond. Instantly realising he was being far more.. poetic than he meant.

It was the combination of the childish excitement of having a penpal, his mother reading him love poems as a child, and his extensive knowledge on love letters.

Hell, he even ended his own letter with a Shakespeare quote. Basic, he knows, but it’s hard to think of anything beyond wanting her reply.

“‘Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.’ Yours, Sweet thing.”

It had been nearly three months of exchanging letters, and he was absolutely smitten with this woman. They had stuck to the rules and not given away any of their information, only talking about the things they like and eventually writing nearly daily.

It would be daily if it weren’t for the useless postage system.

He knows that she lives pretty close to him, he knows her address, plus they’d both admitted to searching each other’s houses, and they’re only about twenty minutes away by car.

That’s it, however, they haven’t looked for the other person despite being desperate for it.

They had described themselves through letters, but both ultimately agreed to just talk and see how it goes and base their furthering relationship off that rather than off their looks. Of course, that just sprung up more worries that he won’t visually be enough whenever they finally meet.

Meeting was, by far, the one thing he both wanted and dreaded.

This woman, who he had only ever addressed with a barrage of cute nicknames and poetical references, who understood his every word and reciprocated his nerdy obsessions and added her own.. he wants to know her so badly.

There is a very big underlying fear that the minute they meet, it’ll be over, the magic of what they are will fade and he’ll lose all this. The thought of her letters being sent to someone else physically pains him.

Penelope, ecstatic that one of her ideas had finally worked, had been badgering to meet with his ‘mystery woman’ for weeks now.

Finally, when she also, tentatively asked to meet with him for Valentine’s Day of all days, he knew she couldn’t deny her a single thing. Not when she sent with her letter, a coupon for flowers on their date.

A date. God.. he has a date for Valentine’s Day.

Not really a holiday he’s ever put much thought into before, but now it suddenly felt like the most important day that had ever existed. And one that came up far sooner than he expected it to.

Even with the place booked - a cute little café a little ways between both their apartments - and his outfit picked, and a card and little teddy picked with the help of Penelope, he didn’t feel ready. Perhaps it’s the lingering fear of rejection the minute she has to deal with him in person, or the fact that his last dates certainly didn’t go well.

Even with Penelope’s reassurance that she’ll adore him, especially after she actually read through his twelve page letter after she’d asked for his opinion on Egyptian mythology. Sending back her own absurdly long letter with a bunch more questions and her own fun facts that she could remember. He’s still absolutely losing his mind at the thought of having to finally meet her.

He got to the café about half an hour earlier than he needed to, wanting to make sure it was perfect (definitely not because he would’ve gone insane at home).

Spending whatever time it took for her to arrive making the table look nice, messing with his hair in the reflection and wondering if it really was getting too long. Constantly fixing his tie, and redoing it a hundred times over and tucking into his maroon cardigan sweater which Elle had called ‘dorky’.

Once it got to fifteen minutes before their date should’ve started, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, immediately rushing to get up and turn to meet his mystery writer. But.. it’s just the waiter, asking if he wanted another drink.

Jesus, they probably think he’s been stood up, and he quickly asks for another glass of water. 

As the man walked away, he ran his fingers through his hair again, looking towards the door - he’d been sat with his back facing it or else he wouldn’t have stopped staring for fifteen minutes.

Immediately, someone was looking at him, a vague sense of recognition swimming across her face. For a few split seconds he thinks it could be her, a beautiful woman with a bouquet of purple lilac blooms in her hands, but then he realises who it is, offering a small wave.

She’s friends with Penelope and, by extension, he’s spoken to and interacted with her quite a few times. They got on pretty well but never anything more than that since she’s always busy, part of the FBI’s CSI unit, and she’d even helped on a few cases before. But she isn’t here for him, she can’t be.

Walking over, she gives him a bright smile, eyes darting to the empty table and three empty water glasses - he’s been here for a while.

“Spencer! Hi! It’s nice to see you.”

“You too, I like the outfit.”

Looking down at herself for a few moments, she grins and then looks back up, doing a quick spin and then settling him with a mock-serious look.

“I’ve got a hot date, Penny said he would like this.”

“You look beautiful, don’t worry.”

Ahh, there goes any chance that she’s here for him, offering a smile and reassuring her that she looks great, eyes darting behind her to the door as she bounced on the balls of her feet. Eventually sucking a deep breath between her teeth and looking back as well.

Which got his attention, especially when she looked around the rest of the café with a confused look on her face. Sighing softly and looking around, his date wasn’t here, may as well help her.

“What does he look like?”

Turning back, she offered him a bashful smile, but she wasn’t going to turn down his offer of help, not when he’s tall and can see over all the stupid tall people around the café. Also.. it’s a very weird thing to explain.

Moving a hand to fidget with her necklace, his eyes focusing on it, vividly remembering her letters.

“--honestly, I have the coping mechanisms of a child. I still play with my necklace when I get nervous.”

“I don’t actually know, it’s sort of a blind date. Really hard to explain, Penelope kind of set us up in a way. I’m actually about fifteen minutes early so he’s probably not even here.”

There is.. no way this is happening right now. She’s still looking around the café for her mystery date, who might just be standing in front of her and he.. doesn’t know what to say or how to get his tongue to pick up from the base of his mouth.

Suddenly, and pretty violently, he’s flooded with the personality of the woman he’s been talking to for months, all of it projected onto her in front of him. It matches, from what he remembers.

The vague descriptions, her proximity to the FBI building, the fact she knows Penelope, the little TARDIS pin he’d seen on her lanyard that he never got the nerves to ask her about. Turning up to a date with a guy she doesn’t know, holding a bouquet of flowers that clearly weren’t for her, causing the flower token in his back pocket to start burning.

Fishing it out and stepping closer, getting her attention, surprised eyes snapping up to meet his at his sudden proximity. Until he took her hand and shoved the handmade coupon into it, her breathing immediately coming in short as they both looked down at it. Her voice trembled slightly.

“Oh~ hello sweet thing..”

“.. hello.” At his soft voice, she looked up and she gave him a completely bashful smile that matched the cute little poetic ramblings she’s been obsessed with for months. “Uhm, are those for me then?”

They both looked down at the flowers in her hands and she handed them over, feeling her heart shoot up into her throat as their hands brushed. Pointing at the purple lilac blooms as if he wouldn’t already know the meaning.

Needing to focus on something other than the fact that she’s going to kiss Penelope Garcia hard on the mouth for this.

“They uh- they are usually given to someone you meet for the first time, and signify the first emotions of love. Kind of love at first sight- not- not that I’m saying I’m in love with you, that would be a crazy thing to say on the first date- absolutely crazy--”

He eventually shut her up, leaning down to peck her lips softly, all nerves and panicked rambling dropped to just look up at him, in utter awe. Okay, maybe she can fall in love with him, she’s already halfway there with a month of letters.

Carefully, he guided her to their table with a hand on the small of her back as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and also he’d just kissed her to shut her up, and it worked.

“It’s fine, I love them, really. And Penelope was right, as your date I love the outfit.”

“Thank you, I love your sweater and-- ohmygod--”

As they sat down at the table, she buried her face into her hands, causing him to panic slightly, reaching out to carefully touch her shoulder. Saying her name worriedly as he set the flowers onto the table.

But she just looked up with a soft whine of embarrassment, peaking at him over her fingers.

“I called you my hot date to your face! That’s so embarrassing.”

Instantly relieved that it wasn’t anything he’d done, easing into a soft laugh and leaning back in his chair after squeezing her shoulder.

“It was cute! You didn’t even know who I was and you still called me hot.”

“It’s mortifying, you’ll never forget it and use it in your wedding vows or something.”

Sure, she was joking, but in the back of his head he filed something away for the future. A tiny, mental box, labelled ‘wedding vows’, wondering how long it would be until he could actually use that. 

Until then, he’d have to stick to ordering dinner on their first date.

Want more?! Good!

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[fortheloveofwonderland]

My Reply | S.R

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

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

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

WC - 6.3k

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

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

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

And sometimes he just needed to talk to someone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He received a reply little over a week later. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer, 

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

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

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

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

But then one of his best friends died. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Y/N,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that’s not why I’m writing. 

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

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

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

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

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

But you couldn’t. And so you replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer,

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

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

As for the other thing…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ten years.” He shrugged. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say that.” She shook her head.

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N,

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

***

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

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

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

Y/N,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jennifer,

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And honestly he was just too exhausted to decline. 

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

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

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

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

“Let what go?” His frown deepened. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spence?” 

“Yes Y/N?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with Evan Ross Katz (2024)

Whether he’s carrying Kylie Minogue to the Hyde Park Festival stage with his pal Andrew Scott, making the Internet go collectively feral for merely running a half marathon, chasing dinosaurs (in the upcoming Jurassic World reboot), romancing Matt Bomer (in Fellow Travelers) or Simone Ashley (in Bridgerton) or Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo (in Wicked) or, with his most recent venture, launching an LGBTQ+-focused charity, it seems Jonathan Bailey is always up to something. And yet, he still makes time, from his hotel room in Thailand (where he’s shooting Jurassic World 4), to hop on a Zoom with me to catch up.

We discuss everything from chafed nipples to queer shame to who he’d like to see in the “Drink Your Milk” T-shirt to if we’ll see him on Broadway any time soon, which is to say it’s a brief but wide-ranging chat.

I haven't seen you since the Met Gala! When we last spoke, you were prepping for your first half marathon. I obviously saw the viral photos that went around of you at the finish line, but how did it go?

You know, I should have put those nipple stickers on. That's my main takeaway. 

[Laughs] Did you bleed?

I did a bit, yeah. Did you? I know you've done a couple of marathons. 

I did bleed, and I didn't know about the bleeding beforehand. It's not something you really hear about but it's painful and uncomfortable.

Totally! And not even just beforehand: It took ‘til 4 hours later when my best friend told me there was evidence [of the bleeding]. But anyways… it was euphoric!

At least there was no photo evidence of that element!

Exactly! So thankfully, it's done. But it's just the most amazing thing, isn't it? And the community as well. Hackney Moves is amazing and they raised loads of money. It was the Bridgerton [Season 3 release] week so I feel like you could sort of harness that.

I do have to ask you a pressing question: Days ago, it was announced that Wicked had moved up its release date and will now be released the same day as Ridley Scott's Gladiator 2. Many online were affectionately calling this Barbenheimer 2.0, which led many to try and speculate about a proper portmanteau. Jon Chu wrote on Instagram that the consensus seems to be “Glicked,” which you reposted on Instagram, signaling a cosign. But I have to ask you, Johnny: Are you not considering“Wickediator”?

I love it. Whatever Jon Chu has ever said to me, I’ve taken as gospel, so I actually hadn't explored all the other options. The one that I've now heard since then which is making me reconsider everything is “Gladicked.” [Laughs] It's quite good, isn’t it? 

Yes! To me, “Glicked” feels too Wicked-skewed and then “Wickediator” is just clunky AF, so I like where you're at. 

We want it to be equal footing for sure. Another thing that I love that went viral is someone going: “Oh, brilliant. A film for the ladies and a film for the ladies.” [Laughs] 

I am both ladies! 

Oh, yes. Me too! 

Let’s talk The Shameless Fund, the charity you founded to raise money for LGBTQ+ nonprofit organizations. Can you tell me about the formation of this project?

It's been a labor of love over the last three or four years. It's been quite an organic experience, mainly inspired by Fellow Travelers, hence why I started with a collaboration which references a very specific scene and a performance by Matt Bomer.

I think through Covid and Bridgerton coming out, I found that there’s a real sense in the queer community about awareness of people who came before you and other experiences. And then obviously in Fellow Travelers, which explicitly explores that, the character I played was sort of on the front all the way through a very complicated experience for gay men at that time.

He experienced real moments of blooming liberation and quite insane amounts of oppression as well, and he was always fighting. He ends up becoming an activist, essentially, and I think it was in playing that part — which was kind of spiritual for me and for everyone who's involved in it — that I was like: Right, okay. I know that I've got this idea in my head and having experienced how much love there is for things like Bridgerton and how much money there is in collaboration, I felt that there's so many things I had said “no” to because it didn't feel quite right for me but if there was a world in which I could marry all of it in a creative sort of cocktail, then why not? And to give back to the community that I so love, and also, I'm a massive beneficiary of the work that the people that came before us did, so that's where it came to fruition from. 

You collaborated with our dear friend Jonathan Anderson, the creative director of Loewe, on a T-shirt with a memorable quote from Fellow Travelers to promote the launch of The Shameless Fund. How did this collaboration come to be?

During the strikes during the filming of Wicked, I went on a run one day and this idea of a T-shirt came into my head in full form. Then I sat next to Jonathan [at a Studio Voltaire fundraiser], and he’s lovely and brilliant and naughty and has a foundation, so it was all kind of organic.

Then I went over to DC to present Matt Bomer with an award for the Human Rights Campaign and it was really galvanizing to experience the American fervor. It was a gala, and the energy in the room was absolutely wild and there were amazing stories on stage. I texted Jonathan and I said: “Look, I have an idea and it involves milk and a T-shirt. What do you think?” and he said: “Call me tomorrow,” and then he said yes within the same phone call. I just felt tentative because it’s the sort of thing where you ask and you don't know, but then it went from there. 

I do recall first seeing a photo of you in the shirt several months ago during a night out with the Loewe team in China…

I went to the Loewe exhibition in Shanghai, which was incredible, and that night, we had quite a big night out and I wore the T-shirt because I’d been given the first prototype.

I was having a little boogie and [Anderson] uploaded it whilst I had no access to the Western World — my phone was off the whole time. So by the time I came home, you could see that people were gonna go wild for the T-shirt. Now, it's sold out and we're gonna get some more and it'll be a first step for The Shameless Fund to raise some money. 

Jonathan Anderson did my and my husband's wedding looks and I had to send him that same initial text to be like: “Can one even ask this?”

That's what's so brilliant in life: People who have the ability to collaborate, and that's just what Jonathan does.

One thing that you said just now that struck me is: “Why not?” I interview a lot of people in your profession and they're not asking that question all the time. A lot of people say:

“Oh, there's lots of money I can make. I can have more money. I can have more things for myself.”

Why are you a “why not?” person rather than a “why”? Is that something that was imbued in you by your family and your upbringing or is it how you've always been?

I don't know. I just feel quite strongly emotionally. I sense injustice in certain places, and I think what comes with success — especially being a gay actor — is that you think: “Hang on a minute. Are there limitations? Are there glass ceilings?”

When you experience success that you never thought you would and you grew up thinking that you're limited because of your identity and who you are, I think about the people that have supported me and the people that were really pioneering, but also, the actual heroes who do the real work; the people who work for these nonprofits and these charities where the majority of their energy is spent trying to raise money. When Bridgerton came out, I was inundated with requests to help draw attention to [these organizations] or raise money or donate things that they could sell, so that's where the kernel of this idea came from. All my life, I’ve been thinking about how I can give back.

It's not for nothing that you call this The Shameless Fund. We grew up at a time when, and I don't know if this is the same for you, but I didn't know that gay people existed. I thought I was the only one because I didn't have access to the kind of media kids do today where you can go on Instagram and see that gay is not only acceptable; it's cool. There's this very significant paradigm shift. I feel like a lot of gay men of our generation felt this shame as young people and often spend a lot of our adult lives working to rid ourselves of it. What is it for you about this idea of shame? 

I totally agree in terms of generations. I think the queer experience changes every five years. Even with some of my friends who are 10 years older than me — it's just so specific to cultural moments and representation as well, as you're saying. But I think my understanding of shame, especially having experienced Fellow Travelers, is that it permeates. It's not just a community that experiences the shame; it's the people around them. It's the parents who don't understand it and kick their kids out of their house. It's the sisters, it’s the cousins, it's the nephews, it's the children that are in broken families because of it. It's actually so toxic, that sense of self-hatred. That’s why The Shameless Fund is actually something that I hope is going to benefit everyone, even beyond the community itself.

Also, the older we get and because of the world we live in now, you can read The Velvet Rage and you can read Matthew Todd’s Straight Jacket and you can explore and have conversations with your friends that are really enlightening and you can have therapy, if you're lucky enough that you can afford to do that. As a 36-year-old now, I look back and I just go: “My God, I had such a loving family and yet I was still so isolated and so crippled.”

Shame can stop people from having a proper education and from being able to structure proper emotional relationships, like fundamental relationships with their family, which is the one place you're supposed to feel safe. It's flawed if the family is not aware of what you're going through. 

How did you come up with the name?

I did have other names [in mind for The Shameless Fund], but we won't go into them. One was so aggressive! [Laughs] But “The Shameless Fund” felt punk enough and fundamental enough. To me, I think that to be without shame is to be able to be joyful and to be able to thrive and to be able to learn and have a bloody good time whilst doing all those things, so it just felt right that it should be targeting shame because then hopefully it benefits the whole community in every color on the pride flag and, in turn, will also help so many people around them. 

So what can people expect next?

There's going to be some really fun things coming with The Shameless Fund and there's different ways in which it can grow, but I have people who really know what they're doing who are helping lead it. By the end of the year, we'll hopefully have worked with three different charities, starting small and helping people understand the work they're doing because that's the most important thing. If you think about Instagram, other than chatting with Evan Ross Katz [laughs], that's the platform through which you can really draw attention to things. Literally anyone in our community who's thriving at the moment — in a community that's obviously under threat going forward — knows what it's like to receive support. We know what we missed growing up.

I, too, grew up with an accepting family, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t still feel ostracized. I appreciate you recognizing that nuance, one I think many of us experience in some form but don’t always discuss.

Now, on The Shameless Fund’s website, it does say that more collaborations are coming. As you said, there’s going to be a restock of the Loewe shirts, but are there other brands in the mix?

There are other brands, and it'll be really exciting because the scope is endless, but I definitely had a couple of other ideas. After Fellow Travelers, the next thing will be a Wicked garment, so you might have to keep your eyes out for that. Maybe jumpers and sexy boots?

That’s perfect for my fantasy! So we've seen Kylie Minogue wearing the shirt — who I was lucky enough to be introduced to by you on the dance floor at the Met Gala after-party, thanks again — and we've seen Kit Connor, Scarlett Johansson and your Bridgerton co-star Luke Newton sporting it as well. I'm wondering who else is on your wishlist of celebrities that you'd like to see in the Drink Your Milk T-shirt?

Oh, God. What a question! Great shout. I would love to see Jerrod Carmichael in it right now. Very specifically Jerrod Carmichael. 

I feel that.

I would also love to see Hanson in it. Their three-part harmonies are a knockout at the moment.

At the moment?

[Laughs] We were just talking about this today. I’ve literally just come away from a field where I was running towards or away from dinosaurs, and we were talking about Hanson for about four hours today and listening to their three-part harmonies. 

That is not what I was expecting.

Who else? I can only think of people who are going to be wearing it over the next few weeks, which is quite exciting. Is there anyone you want to see in it? 

I have quite a few people. First of all, Jamie Dornan. I would love to see him in it. Paul Mescal, for obvious reasons. And the fans are waiting for Matt Bomer!

Don’t you worry. They’ll be satiated! They’ll be quenched. And Andrew Scott had a good time at Glastonbury is what I’ll say. [Laughs]

I bet he did! Last but not least: Richard II is bringing you back to the stage. Wicked is giving us the musical theater moment we've been craving. Is there a musical theater moment that’ll be live on stage in Jonathan Bailey's future?

Potentially, actually. Maybe in 2026. 

On Broadway?

I would! I had the best time recently in New York and I watched as many things as I could. I saw Stereophonic, which, to me, was like a religious experience. That, and Oh, Mary! And Cole Escola.

That is what it's about. I would come back to watch that; I was so inspired by it. Obviously, I'd love to [be on Broadway] at some point and you just have to wait and see what pops up. 

Source

[gatheredfates]

(COUNT)DOWN TO DAWNTRAIL FREE DAY ･*☆

When I made the (Count)Down to Dawntrail challenge, the one thing I was most excited for was the Free Day. I had specifically stated one of the options you could do for this day was to talk about how the people you met through XIV and how they made a positive impact on your life, and that was what I was going to do.

For me, when I started doing my question drives however long ago, I was committed to being the change I wanted to see in the world. While the XIV community is a cut above the rest in that people are genuinely interested in other oc's, ships and work(s), I have been in communities where that's not the case, and I know the sensation of feeling like you are putting your work out there, putting your work out there and putting your work out there... and it feels like no one is interested.

Equally, I have also felt the cut of anxiety as it goes, 'I really want to interact with this person, but what if they think I'm weird? What if they take it the wrong way?'

—So what if they think I'm weird?

That was kind of my whole mantra. I was going to make as genuine effort as I could muster to interact with the community, send asks to people and to try and learn/remember as much as I could. I wanted people to feel like someone was reading their work and confident to reach out to people they were interested in getting to know.

If someone wanted to take a bad-faith interpretation of my work, so what? So what if they think I'm weird; so what if they don't like me? Nothing I could do was ever going to change their mind, so why should I worry about an insignificant possibility that wasn't going to affect me beyond a block and a funny story to tell my friends? And if that small risk was going to earn me more friends with whom I could share more funny stories with... isn't the risk worth it? Be kind, take no shit; the same mantra I have carried with me since 2023.

Not only that, but if I could inspire other people to reach out and interact too, wouldn't that be amazing? I think we're all conditioned online to be afraid of being 'too much'; too weird, too forward, too outgoing. We all want interaction but are afraid to interact in case its misinterpreted. That sucks. In my mind, if I interacted—if I even showed other people who would respond to their efforts positively—and they reached out behind me, that was worth it.

Cultivating that kind of community is always worth it.

It's been a very healing journey for me, honestly. I've come out of my shell a lot, dispelling my own anxieties and coming to grips with my traumas that were honestly the result of just bad happenstance and the fact I was young—rather than me doing anything obscenely wrong. I have met lots of wonderful people, read so many interesting stories and learned so much about a myriad of fascinating WoL's (and regular ocs!). I've also met people who are interested in my work, even if I tend to showcase it a lot less.

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Thank you for supporting me with the Compendium. Thank you for enthusiastically replying to my asks. Thank you for supporting me with (Count)Down to Dawntrail. Thank you for setting aside a little space for me in your day, because none of these projects would have a hope of working without the support of the community. That's the honest truth.

Before I go, I'd like to extend a couple of personal thanks:

—To SEAFLOOR (Tumblr Community & Discord): thank you for your constant support for my projects. A huge thank you to everyone in the discord with the social role who just wanted to hang out and be friends. I am honoured to have fostered a healthy, vibrant community full of wonderful people who uplift, support and help each other. Running this space hasn't once felt like a burden and that is entirely a credit to your maturity, kindness and accommodations. Thank you. Sdmin and mof are warm in my heart.

—To Firelight Trading Company (and associates): my best pals, I love you! Thank you for always being by my side. Thank you for all the laughs, the endless shenanigans and your unwavering support with The Fireside and the Parlour. Without you, none of my stories would be where they are. Thank you for making my life (and my roleplay) richer. You all mean the world to me, really. Even if you are little shits.

—To Pepper, the platonic love of my life: I love you. This goes without saying. Thank you for being my best friend for all these years. Thank you for being a grounding force and support, even if you're an introvert riding the coattails of a sadistic extrovert who loves thrusting you into 'situations'. I'd like to sum up our friendship with two images that articulate who we are as people.

Okay, okay. I lied (kinda). Here's the real one.

—To anyone who has ever liked a post of mine, made a nice comment, tagged me in a dash game, went to the Fireside, etc. etc: know you hold a special place in my heart. I really, really mean it. I am god-awful at sincerity, but I hope it reaches you all the same.

With that, however, onwards—to Tural!

[dreadfutures]

I know it's weird the first time you do it, but like

meet your online friends in real life

make those travel arrangements

drive that distance, stay with each other

we're not 11 years old talking to strangers. we are adults in voice chats daily, or video chats, or regular game groups, and we're friends. we're pen pals and ride or die homies and like

it's so worth it

most of the time you can do the same things you do online, in person! sit in the same room and game, or quietly write, or maybe even better you can relocate to a local area together and do what you normally do, there

I just think it's so beautiful and I'm so excited to have met so many of my online friends and to host them or be hosted by them and it makes me so happy to see them go on and make plans to meet more friends! it is so lovely so so lovely

like! does your heart not just burst at the thought of all these ride or die friends who have cried on voice chat with each other and poured their hearts out, and grown together, finally finally finally hugging with flesh and blood arms????!!

there is joy in this world and solidarity and human connection and it can sit on a couch with you!?!

[genericpuff]

Do you have any recommendations for comics on tapas? I'm rather new to the app so I wondered if you had any. Sorry if someone already asked!

Oh, so many! Tapas was one of my OG homes waaay back in the day, when I was still getting into drawing comics (back then it was gag-a-days). I spent a lot of time reading comics on there and it was one of my first introductions to comic platforms in general (next to SmackJeeves, RIP).

Rock and Riot - 1950's LGBTQ+ gangster teenagers getting into shenanigans and turf wars. Very cute and fun and adorable <3

Monster Pop! - Monster girls who are besties! This one has some real gorgeous art especially if you like the original vibes of S1 LO, lots of bright beautiful colors and lineless shapes. The creator of this comic, mayakern, now develops comfortable and eco-friendly skirts with her wife and pals for plus-sized folks! (they have pockets!)

A BETTER PLACE - Young girl Hannah and her little brother Theo find something cool in the woods. Children becoming gods. This was one of those comics that had some REALLY cool "you had to be there" time travel elements that aren't quite as immersive in hindsight (I was one of those people who were there and DAMN it was awesome), but it's still absolutely worth the read and it operates as a sort of prequel to another one of Harry Bogosian's comics on the platform.

Fail by Error - This comic is long since done with, its creator having moved on to bigger things, but at one point in time, this was the titan series on Tapas, before the platform became predominantly BL's and isekais. Fail by Error was truly one of the best of the best of Tapas-hosted comics from its golden era of comedy comics. Also the creator made art for me once and I still have it! <3

(my babieees <3)

RandoWis - funny gag strip is funny ! He also draws an MMO-themed comic that - coincidentally - when I double checked, looks like it stopped updating in 2021 until two days ago. So yeah, good time to check that one out too!

Undying Happiness - Naomi takes a chance on love and decides to meet up with a guy she met online. He turns out to not look like the guy in the photos in the most hilariously absurd way.

Deep Fried Pudge - Okay, this is a really weird inclusion because like... this comic isn't good. This comic is painfully bad. Like, "roll your eyes into the back of your skull at your dad's stupid jokes" bad. This comic has not stopped updating daily since 2012. It literally just had its 11 year anniversary. Every update is just a single panel either making some pun or just stating very innocent, inoffensive opinions. There are four thousand of these things. And every single one is done with the same art style and joke structure as before, the comics from today look and feel like a 7 year old made them the exact same way they did 10 years ago, as if trapped in a hellish time capsule of its own design, and I love it, I freaking love it. Its existence quite literally defies human nature. Reading it and attempting to comprehend why it exists is like staring into the eyes of some Eldritch god that chose peace over chaos. Pudge will outlive all of us. Pudge will outlive the universe. All hail Pudge.

[habbohoteldotdk]

06.04.24

I used to think of online communities as an acceptable substitute for real-life connection but their appeal quickly dwindled once I realized that most people who spend a significant amount of time online (as in, most of their waking hours) are severely maladjusted and any place where they congregate is bound to devolve into really inappropriate discussions, harassment and attempts to break boundaries.

I don't see the appeal in making online 'friends' either, as you cannot truly be friends with somebody you cannot see, hear, smell,... someone who is essentially words on a screen, about as real as a chatbot, unless you meet up. Maybe they could be considered pen pals.

I used to get these strange emotional reactions whenever someone blocked me, or insulted me, or rejected my friend request, but now I'm simply indifferent. None of these things have any bearing in my real life and I understand now that I placed a higher priority on a virtual world over my real life, which can't be turned off by clicking a button.

One of the worst effects of internet addiction (or any addiction for that matter, but this is the only one I have) is making your feelings, actions and life completely revolve around it, 'it' being something that is essentially not real -- curating your online profiles, talking to people you have never met in real life, getting terribly upset over online arguments, losing countless, valuable hours that'll you'll never get back, all because of something that'll never bring you any benefit unless you use it as a tool.

I wish I was better at writing so I could convey what I mean better, but these posts ("living a disembodied life") ("signs you're doing something symbolically rather than authentically") essentially remind me of what I feel or do when I spend prolonged amounts of time browsing the Internet aimlessly, absorbing other people's opinions on how my life ought to be, amassing photos and videos of things I would like to do, or can do, but won't because daydreaming feels better, amassing random screenshots of information that could be useful someday (this site does a good job of talking about information addiction), wasting time while thinking "I could be doing all of those things instead", but there are so many things I could do that it paralyzes me instead, and so on.

I also used to think that using the Internet and wasting hours upon hours consuming content is inevitable because "there is simply nothing else to do and I'm too poor to enjoy anything anyway" but my experience trying to cut it off has proven me wrong, and there is simply nothing preventing me to stop except me and my excuses. I was allergic to taking accountability or responsibility, but it's the only way I can make better choices.

[niki-smith]

Announcing my NEXT GRAPHIC NOVEL!

SEA LEGS is a MG graphic novel memoir and a collaboration with one of my oldest pals, Jules Bakes. We met when we were tiny tweens, roleplaying magical creatures on an equally tiny online forum (so cool), and I soon found out the reason her internet connection wasn’t as reliable as my sturdy dial-up: she lived on a boat. That her dad built by hand.

Living on a sailboat is REALLY COOL… the wide, open Caribbean Sea… your adorable boat cat… you don’t have to go to school…! And it’s also lonely as heck.

Jules is an amazingly hilarious writer, which makes the hard scenes in SEA LEGS hit all that much harder. We’ve been developing this book together for the last ???4??? (oh god) years and it’s finally, finally about to be here. Thank you so much to our incredible editor Maya Marlette, our designer Carina Taylor, and our agent Charlie Olsen!

I hope you love it. I love it. I love it despite having to draw SO MANY BOATS…… and, well, you’ll see.

SEA LEGS comes out FEBRUARY 5! (!!!!) from Scholastic/Graphix⛵

Pre-order links here!

Hardcover: Bookshop.org | Amazon | Barnes & Noble Paperback: Bookshop.org | Amazon | Barnes & Noble eBook: Kindle | Nook

Add on Goodreads !

[buff-muffin]

Travelling Luffy modern AU:

A modern AU where when Luffy met Shanks as a kid he and his mates were living in a van travelling the country probably as some form of criminal but no one in the sleepy village of Foosha knew him. And it inspired Luffy to travel when he grew up. So after high school Luffy picks up random jobs saving money for himself and others to travel going on these grand trips over seas and when he gets back squats at a new friends place and finds a new shitty job to save money and does it all again. He tries to get all his friends to travel with him though it doesn’t always work out so it’s usually two or three of them.

And even in completely different countries Luffy just has a way of befriending the locals finding the best restaurants and activities and even making genuine friends who he is still pen pals with years later. So many times the craziest things have happened to him but Luffy never takes photos on his journey so Nami and the other Strawhats had made it their mission to document every bullshit lucky occasion because no one will believe him otherwise.

His car broke down? Yeah turns out the mayor of the city found them and helped them out. Now they regularly share animal pics. The random old man he befriended in a big city? Yeah turns out he’s actually one of shank’s dads and a criminal and while though retired is still conning a casino for their money and running from the government. The tall rando he fought at a restaurant before both of them decided to just eat and chill? Turns out his mother is one of the biggest gang leaders in the country and he is her right hand man.

Ace also travels but never as frequently as Luffy does now. He’s seen the big places and heard plenty of stories from his friends (the white beards) but is pretty happy in the city. So it’s always a pleasant surprise when the random stranger Luffy befriended happens to know is big brother.

It’s even funnier if you imagine that’s how Luffy meets the grandline strawhats. Like Robin was an exchange student staying overseas, he befriended and greeted her when she returned home. Chopper was graduating high school in a sleepy snow town and because of Luffy decided to head to the university local to him to become a doctor. Franky was actually a professional mechanic and after talking and a lot of pushing decided to make a better name for himself in Luffy’s town for a fresh start. Brook was an old professional singer who was stuck over seas they randomly found and decided to help out, renewing his passport finding his birth certificate ect. He now performs at bars and is working on a solo career. Jimbe was travelling for his own kind of work though after a few encounters with Ace and then Luffy, he found himself so charmed and in need to settle a little, chose to become a teacher at the local university.

The one time Luffy flew by himself because none of his friends could make time he ended up having to stay over seas for two years due to issues with his visa. By some fucking miracle Rayleigh was there and ended up looking after the kid helping him with his piss poor education, inability to hold a stable job and his own house. Luffy came home to the biggest party ever and while most of his friends graduated he started taking online courses while travelling got a share apartment with Zoro and started really cleaning up his resume and not quitting his fucking job every time he traveled.

Luffy just has the travel bug and a need for adventure and has taken all of the east blue gang with him multiple times on these adventures. Something always goes wrong but works out in the best ways.

[mrhaitch]

Hello Mr. Haitch, how are you ? I reckon that since you're an author married to an another wonderful author, you may be familiar with the self-doubt and overall bleh feeling that comes with writing and not really finding pleasure or purpose in it anymore. My question is : how do you deal with that ? I don't see myself as a writer but I still try to nurture this hobby, it's just been hard when everything I write ends up feeling flat at best, unreadable at worst. I don't really have writer pals or readers who give me feedback and I was a bit sad to realise that even when sharing my writing on online spaces where there are no stakes, it still feels like a race to notes and interactions. How can I keep pushing past this ? How do I improve when no one gives me feedback ?

I'm doing well, thank you anon.

Yes this is all familiar to me, and it's something I'm presently overcoming myself (I think it's been over two years since I managed to complete something).

I think there's a few different things here to address so I'll take them each in turn.

Motivation - Loss of motivation is inevitable. All love affairs have peaks and troughs, creative ones doubly so. Accepting that what you're feeling now will pass in time can help, but it's not a cure. When I feel like a failure I try to remember something Neil Gaiman talked about a few years back: writing is a lot like trying to get to the top of a mountain, with every word being a single step closer or another foot surmounted. If you find there's a time you can't write, you're not going backwards, you're just standing in place. Sometimes you have to in order to catch your breath. Forgive yourself for taking a breather - and try to figure out why you need it.

Writing in isolation - This has been my own experience, to tell the truth. I hold a Masters degree in Creative Writing and sat through many hours of workshops, but even then it still felt like I was writing alone - that somehow the conversations that took place in those groups were competitive and unconstructive; everyone eyeing each other, asking 'do you like me? do you like my work? is this okay?'. Writing can be lonely, especially with that first draft where you're writing with the door closed, just figuring out the story one line at a time. You can experience several lifetimes in the space of an hour and occasionally emerge from your writing place, puffy faced and wild-eyed, feeling like you have to tell someone what you just witnessed, but find people give you a quizzical look and fail to understand. Working with others, sharing with others, especially people who do understand can be a wonderful balm for such extended (and sometimes necessary) solitude - but it can have it's own problems. Sometimes you internalise the expectations and tastes of others in such a way that proves more of a hindrance then a help. Which brings me to-

Writing for a social media profile - I've done this myself some times and fell into the same trap you describe: second guessing my work for the sake of a theoretical audience, interpreting a lack of engagement as a sign of my own failures or short-comings as a writer. Even when I published for the first time, and then again for a second, I have only met one person who read my work and it was only because they were published in the same anthology. The relationship between artist and audience is difficult, fraught might be a better word, and one that deserves its own post. Sometimes the audience feels they're owed something by the artist, sometimes the artist senses that expectation and subjects their work to censure to adapt it to what they think the audience wants from them. In the end you've got a work that satisfies no one. Social media can help you find an audience - but it's also a medium built around habit, dependency, and engagement. It's not a true reflection of your worth, but rather how closely what you produce as an artist best fits that platforms algorithms and business models. And, here I'm flirting with arrogance a bit, you should never really concern yourself with what everyone might think.

As for advice, here's the best I've got: find whatever it is that brings you to the page and keeps you there. If trying to satisfy the expectations of others isn't helping, then focus on what you want. How would you tell this story, if you were the only person to ever read it? How would you excite yourself, challenge yourself, enlighten yourself?

Beyond that I'd suggest reading a lot and reading widely. Feed the creative compost heap that dwells in the darker, mustier corners of your mind, and see what weird and wonderful things take root.

And if you want something to prime the engine, watch this short interview with Ray Bradbury towards the end of his life. It always cheers me up:

[mothergold]

happy new years friends and followers! i remember doing one of these when i first joined fanfic tumblr and i’m feeling nostalgic so i thought i’d make one since it’s been awhile and i have some (positive) things to say!!

okay here goes!! putting everything under a readmore to not clog the dash <3

@tighnarly — hi baby. my princess, cupcake, gum drop, bunny baby <3 i’m so happy and grateful to have you as my future wife and i can’t wait for the day we get married. i know i mostly post about my fictional fav (albedo :p) but you’re truly all i want and need 🫶🏻 everytime i write a fanfic i’m thinking of you and me. every word i write is a love letter to you from me. i know i’m not the best with words but i hope one day you’ll be able to see you the way i see you. trust me when i say you are the most beautiful and kind human i have ever met in my life, and i’m gonna personally fight everyone and anyone who hurts you 😗 anywaysss hehe i love you sunshine 💖🫶🏻

@neuvillettes — bestieeeeeee my bestie from the westie 🫶🏻 i’m so glad we met and connected online bc now we legit our roommates and it’s so fun 😭🤚🏻 like i legit dont know how to tell you how much our friendship means to me. ur fr that one person that just GETS me. you’re so kind and funny and fun to be around, but i also love that ur not afraid to be honest with me, especially when i need that tough love approach. i love you oh so much bestie 💖 oh and thank you for the art tablet i literally am still screaming over it hehe.

@suyacho — my beloved bestie 🫶🏻 there is no one i love rambling about my selfship thots about more than you. i love how i can talk to you about anything and everything 🥹🫶🏻 i especially love how patient and supportive you’ve been of me this year, because it meant the entire world to me. i’m so glad we’re besties and i can’t wait for the day i meet you irl 🫶🏻💖mwah ily bestie hehe me, kaeya, and albedo are smoochin u rn 💖 (platonic)

@auphelia — mootie sweet sweet mootie. it always makes me happy seeing you on the dash, and i especially smile whenever i see u in my tags whether it’s a fic or just a regular old post. i get so giddy whenever i talk to u bc u are fr one cool pal!! i’m so glad we’re mooties! and i have to say i can’t wait to see what more you write because you are very talented 💖

@fleur-de-leap — leap!! i know i am very sporadic with my messages but i legit get so happy to interact with you and even more so when i see/read ur art/writing! you’re so fucking talented in so many ways and every day it truly impresses me! when we made the server together that day it made me SO happy and i get so happy seeing i get messages from you 💖 thank you for being my friend through all these years, truly it’s been a blessing.

@shig-a-shig-ah — bestie!!!!! my BESTIEEEE 🥹🫶🏻 i hope u know u mean the entire world to me. i can’t believe we’ve been friends since the beginning of my writing journey, it’s wild! istg ONE DAY BESTIE, ONE DAY we will meet and it will be the best day ever 🥹🫶🏻 ily bestie mwah

@blkladyelle — elle!! my beloved!! it’s so nice whenever i see you on the dash, and i’m always especially happy whenever i get a dm from you! i hope you feel loved and happy this upcoming year and that it holds so much positivity for you. because fuck i need you to have a good year!!! i love you sm and wanted to let you know my dm’s are always open for you 🫶🏻💖

@nc-vb — mootie aka my fellow albedo lover i get so happy whenever i see u interact with me, and i want you to know i’m always rooting for you! you’re writing is so good and honestly you’ve been such a joy to talk to in dm’s, and you’re so easy to talk to. i hope this year good things happen to you, because you truly deserve the world bub 🫶🏻

@4izawas — bestie cas!! i know we just became mutuals but u are legit one of the coolest people on this app! ur writing is fucking god tier and you are legit one of the funniest fuckers i know 😭💖 can’t count the amount of times u’ve made me giggle from something u said 🤭 i’m manifesting that aizawa confesses his love to u this year!!! 💖

if you’re not listed here it’s purely either because i forgot or we didn’t talk too much this year. so, please don’t take it personally if i didn’t include you!! i love all me mooties 🫶🏻💖

[is-it-offwithyourhead]

Is it OWMH for being completely oblivious? Questionable decisions have gone wholesome.

- an update by 🎤

For context on the situation I have found myself in. It was later that very same night where I had asked a few online gaming pals on tips for apology gifts. Immediately, they ask if the recipient is important to me. I'd like to think Vil, can be considered important to myself for many reasons. Does not cross my mind how this could sound to someone else. Immediately, they shoot out with items like flowers and jewelry, something sentimental if I could. It does sound like things Vil would like at the front.

The next day, I get the permission to skip and bring a plus one. I intercept Rook Hunt in the morning and invite him to leave campus with me. Getting him to come along was the easy part; now we're talking about Vil, a little back and forth. It turns out I know more personal details about Vil than i initially thought.

Rook takes me to a tailor place first to get a suit. I'm not surprised, a bit bizarre, but hey. Our next destination is something I planned, a jewlery place that would provide me the ability to get something engraved in-store. I pick out a pricey amethyst set because it's Vil. Quite frankly, I thought it was downright stunning, so I got his name on it, done.

We head back to campus, boom.. finish with the hard part, or so I thought. Now Rook was doing my hair in Pomefiore while the order of flowers came in time for class to end. I figure he's looking out for me; no one wants to be scolded for looking messy by the staff. I got the new suit on by now.

Which, it finally dawns on my bird brain, everyone is convinced I am asking someone, aka Vil, out. I'm trying not to have a heart attack, I'm convinced I'm going to get skewered on a stick for what looks like a publicity stunt. There's even a crowd looking at me.

Outcome lads, it would shock you. I immediately take a deep breath; Vil is coming at any second now. There's no running away or even changing forms to skaddle. I'm holding my flowers in one hand, the jewelry in the other in a nice little box. Vil enters; I'm practically one foot in the grave, Rook is absolutely delighted and even takes a picture of Vil immediately during this moment.

I'm keeping it brisk, I say I'm sorry for yesterday morning while presenting the items. Rook in the corner of my eye, giving me rapid gestures to continue. I can see Vil is likely to regret having ever met me, I would, too, for this. But no, that does not happen. He smiles at me, and he laughs softly, I feel my heart racing in a multitude of ways. He tells me, and I quote, "You really are a lost case.. I accept your apology, you silly bird."

He takes my offering of peace while I'm trying not to stutter like a fool. I think this whole ordeal is gonna blow over and am willing to accept my L. Until a few hours later, I'm scrolling social media when I see a familiar set of jewelry on a certain someone's personal account. Vil posted a picture of what I had gifted him with, with the caption "My silly bird." Mission failed successfully, I suppose.

[kimmysurveyblog]

54

What do you want for your birthday? I have no idea. Staple clothing items are always appreciated, like socks or a sweater.

What’s your favorite flavor of tea? Mint with honey is all I ever drink (when sick).

What’s your favorite fall drink? Pumpkin cream cold brew!

What’re you going to be for Halloween? A tired mom. I truly don't care for this holiday at all. Counting the days until Nov 1st so I can go into CHRISTMAS MODE! :)

Do you think you’ve learned a lot and grown a lot in the past year? For sure. I've been the mom of a toddler which is difficult of course, but also my Mom died. I don't have any living parents. It's been quite the year. I'm very excited for a fresh start in 2 months!

Are you satisfied with how you’ve spent your year? Yes! I'm in the era of my life where I'm 100% focused on my young child and have little time or energy for much else. I'm proud of myself for getting into the habit of exercising while she naps. :)

Do you have a lot of friends? No.

Do you own a yellow scarf? No.

Do you own anything leopard print? Nope.

Will you buy a cake for your next birthday? Yes!

Are you excited for something currently? Halloween, I guess. My daughter will be excited.

If you could change just one thing about your life right now, what would it be? I have this dark cloud hanging over me lately and I'd like it to go away.

What’s your favorite color? Purple.

Are you artistic? Nope.

When was that last time you drew a picture in a sketchbook? Years ago. That used to be one of my hobbies.

Is there a tree right outside your bedroom window? No.

Have you ever dressed up as a witch on Halloween? Probably.

Have you ever been to a masquerade? No.

Do you eat vegetables? Rarely. It's one thing I struggle with.

Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? Several.

Did anything bad happen to you in August? I don't think so.

Who in your phone has a heart after their name? Boyfriend.

Do you think your last ex deserves to die? No.

Do any girls like the last guy you kissed? Maybe.

Have you done anything sexual today? No.

Do you have a second mom? There was an older woman I met online who I considered my second mom and she really stepped up when my dad died + my mom basically abandoned me. She passed away about 10 years ago now. I miss her so much.

Other than your name, what was the last name someone called you? Mommy.

If you could find one long lost friend of the past, who would it be? No idea.

Was your sixth grade teacher a man or a woman? Man.

Have you ever had any teeth pulled? Yes.

Do you wash your hair or your body first when taking a shower? Hair.

Have you ever eaten something other people might think is gross? Nah.

When was the last time you colored with crayons? Yesterday. I have a toddler lol.

When you were a kid, who was your best pal? I had many throughout the years.

Have you ever been to a nursing home? Visited people, and worked in one.

Do you own any board games? Maybe.

Were you born in the state you live in? Province and yes.

Have you ever lived in a house that has been broken into? No.

Who do you know that watches the most sports? My boyfriend's mom and stepdad.

Have you ever been 4-wheeling? No.

Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? I just got a save the date in the mail today! Next September.

Do you live anywhere near the woods? Yes.

Do you have any important anniversaries you celebrate? Mine & my boyfriend's, and my parents.

What’s your favourite brand of energy drink? Monster.

Do you have (or have you ever had) acne? I had a few zits during puberty (and pregnancy lol) but not much else fortunately.

What will be the next concert you attend? Nooo idea.

Can you rap? No.

What do you usually order when you’re at McDonald’s? Two big mac combos and a happy meal.

Do you like to wear long, dangling earrings? No.

Do you pay any attention to your country’s politics? Yes.

Tell me about the sickest you’ve ever felt. I had Norovirus as an adult and it fucking sucked.

Any important birthdays coming up? Nope.

Fireworks: yay or nay? I hate them. Think of the last long car trip you had, where did you go? No idea. I haven't done a long car trip in years.

Do you have a Twitter account that you use regularly? No.

Have you ever seen a horseshoe crab? They’re scary, right?! No.

Do you like people watching and is it something you do often? If so, where are your favorite locations to do so? No.

The last time you ate leftovers, what was it that you were eating? Pizza.

What is your favorite board that you've made on Pinterest? ACNH inspo.

Do you get on Facebook or Instagram more? Ohhh no idea. Both equally maybe.

What was the last thing you ate or drank that was blue raspberry-flavored? Candy probably.

What was the last song you listened to? A song from the Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack probably. My toddler is OBSESSED right now.

Have you discovered any new hobbies in the past couple months? Exercise maybe? I've been doing this since the beginning of June.

What's the wildest animal you've ever come in contact with? No idea.

Do you ever question if your mother loves you? No.

What is your favorite type of Lunchables? The pizza one.

Are any of your siblings' friends like family to you? Yes, one of them.

Do you have any friends who you exchange memes with? Of course.

Are you in any Discord servers? How often do you use them? I'm in several but I only actively use one related to parenting and the "couple" Discord I have with my boyfriend. Highly recommend!! It's so freaking useful, especially now that we have a kid.

Have you ever had to see an emergency vet after hours? Yes. My ex stepped on my dog accidentally. She was fine thankfully.

When was the last time you sat under a blanket on a couch? No idea.

Can you bite into ice cream or are your teeth too sensitive? No idea.

Do you know anyone who's been bitten by a snake? No.

Do you prefer strawberries or cherries? Strawberries.

Biggest insecurity? My stomach. It's always been my biggest insecurity but that's obviously worse since having a child.

Describe your mom with one word. Missed.

Do you like fast food or does it disgust you? I enjoy it. We usually get it once a week.

Who was the last person you kissed? Bf.

What’s your favourite alcoholic drink? Craft beer.

Do you like the smell of BBQs? Yes!

Do wasps scare you? No.

Have you ever worn flip flops in the snow? Yesss all the time in the Winter to take out the garbage or get/take out the dog. I should really just buy a pair of slip on shoes.

Have you ever heard people having sex in the next room? No.

Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? No.

Have you ever lost your voice? Last time I got sick.

Did you ever have an emo or scene phase? Yup.

Could you see yourself having a child with the last person you kissed? We have one child. :)

Which of the guys you’ve been interested in hurt you the most? Ex bf.

Do you know anyone who is engaged? Cousin.

What are you listening to? Cars going by.

What was the last thing you looked up on Google? Sugar cookie recipe.

Ever been kissed on the leg? Maybe?

Do you think you are ready to be on your own (have your own home, job, etc.)? Yes of course.

Are you friends with someone who’s autistic? Yes.

Have you ever had a Big Mac? Yes!

[belicioustummy]

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A KINK STORY. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18.

A vampire hunter shows up at a party prepared to slay the vampire host, but finds it more difficult than expected.

(full disclosure: this story doesn’t focus on belly kink as much as my other stuff, but it’s still present. hope you enjoy anyway!)

“Bradley Givens is a librarian who works the night shift. He’s been described by people who know him as friendly, scholarly, and handsome. He also happens to be a vampire.”

Lloyd Brewer chewed his lip as he typed up the information his team would need for their little outing that night.

“Every few months, like every vampire, Bradley will get an irresistible craving for human blood. We know this because he’s been posting online for a couple years about events where a real vampire will feed on you.” He grimaced. To think a killer creature of the night had been menacing innocent, misguided people for so long! It was enough to make you sick… though he had to admit, he was a little excited too. As a vampire hunter, he’d had several false starts that were embarrassing to look back on. But tonight, this little vampire party? This would be the one. He’d bring an end to this monster, and nobody would have to worry about getting their blood sucked in this town again!

Lloyd was feeling slightly less confident upon arriving at the door of a nice-looking two-story house. Luckily several other vampire hunters were with him for backup- a couple of old college pals and a guy he’d met on a vampire information forum. True, none of them had any real experience with vampires either, but there was safety in numbers.

He’d been expecting a ravenous, snarling monster descending on clueless and terrified partygoers to kill them, but what he found upon arriving was a charming, well-dressed fellow feeding on guests all too eager to give him a taste. The guests themselves came in a wide variety, he noted as he glanced from goths in full makeup to guys in casual dress chatting about a film festival with a middle-aged businesswoman. There was a table covered in plates of delicious-looking food, which partygoers periodically stopped to enjoy.

Lloyd noticed a few people looking nervous or uncomfortable as they approached the vampire Bradley, and watched them, ready to jump in at the moment he struck. The moment never came, though. Bradley seemed perfectly happy to let them decline, directing them to go mingle or try the snacks. It wasn’t as though there was any short supply of people willing to give him a sip straight from the source. Lloyd wondered if this many people showed up to all Bradley’s parties- were they repeat guests? He definitely seemed familiar with some of them. His suspicions were confirmed when he overheard a duo of women gushing over how Bradley had “filled out” since a few years ago. The fact that he’d gained that weight from snacking on people didn’t seem to bother them, judging from the bandages on their fingers. Lloyd tried to ignore the uninvited thought that Bradley’s large figure was pretty attractive. That was how they got you.

As the night progressed, he and his fellow hunters kept to themselves. He didn’t even sample the food, not trusting it. However, when all the guests willing to be bitten had gotten enough blood drained away, Bradley turned his bright eyes to the many new guests who’d declined a drink.

“Come now, it’s a party!” he said, grinning at them with his sharp teeth on display. “You may not have wanted to have me feed from you, but there’s no reason you can’t eat some of this spread! I want all my guests to enjoy themselves.”

Lloyd took a deep breath. It was now or never. He stepped forward, his hand on the holster that concealed his stake.

“Actually,” he said, willing his voice not to shake, “I’d enjoy myself more if I could slay you.”

Several guests around his target gasped, but Bradley himself only gave him an easy smile. “Really? That’s exciting. Come over, then.”

Lloyd made his way across the floor. Though it was only a few feet to the vampire, the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him made it feel a lot longer. Bradley made no move to defend himself, sitting prone in his chair with the grace of an aristocrat.

“Shall I unbutton my shirt? It will make for easier access,” he said. When Lloyd didn’t answer, he began to do just that. Two buttons were open before Lloyd finally found the guts to say something.

“I’d rather do this somewhere we don’t have so many people watching,” he said.

A woman beside Bradley began to whisper something in his ear, but he murmured something to her that seemed to put her at ease.

“Of course. Come with me.” And with that, Bradley took his hand and led him upstairs, then down a long hallway. Lloyd began to wish he’d taken along one of his slayer friends. They’d come after him if he was gone too long, though… wouldn’t they?

Bradley opened the door to a room with a large, curtained four-poster bed. It was very clean, with unlit candles in jars and moonlight streaming in through a window. He lay on the bed, exposing his pale collarbone in a way that made Lloyd blush. It wasn’t bedroom eyes, he told himself. He was just trying to mess with his head.

Lloyd narrowed his eyes. The only way to win this was to beat the vampire at his own game. “Would you mind taking off your shirt?” he asked. “For practicality’s sake.”

“So polite for someone trying to kill me,” Bradley remarked, undoing the third button. There were soft, dark curls of hair on his broad chest.

“If I was too cocky, you might get sick of playing with me and decide I’m perfect for dessert.”

“You think so?” He undid another button, requiring a bit more attention than the others before it. Lloyd hadn’t noticed before, but the shirt looked rather tight around the middle. It must have been all the fresh blood Bradley had drank- and yet, his clothes were spotless, as though he hadn’t spilled one drop.

“It’s not hard to tell you’re playing mind games.”

“Mind games? I’ve been nothing but courteous to you,” he said calmly, undoing yet another button. “In fact, I’d say I’ve gone beyond being a good host.” The last button free, he shrugged off the shirt and placed it beside him on a pillow.

Lloyd stared. No wonder the shirt had looked a little strained. The vampire was so bloated with blood that his round stomach had a slight pink blush. He was a predator after a hunt, full and sleepy and, most of all, vulnerable. He gazed up at him, almost seeming to expect something.

“I don’t think good hosts usually eat the guests,” Lloyd shot back, pulling his stake from his holster and advancing on him. He wouldn’t let his guard down, not for a minute. He wouldn’t be next.

Bradley shrugged. “It’s not as if that was in fine print on the invitation. These people like when I feed from them. As long as my guests leave happy, what’s the issue?”

“I think we need-“ Lloyd thrust out his non-occupied hand, pinning it to Bradley’s chest “-to get to the heart of the matter.”

There was a brief pause.

“Your hand is warm,” Bradley said.

“I just- can’t find a pulse,” Lloyd said, trying not to show his embarrassment. “Your heart is here, right?”

“No, that’s my breast. It would still hurt if you stabbed me there, though.”

Lloyd scowled and hoped the blush creeping up his neck wasn’t visible. He moved his hand over and readied the stake. He searched the creature’s eyes for a spark of fear, anger, anything to show that he realized what was about to happen-

And he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Is this your first time?”

He blinked.

Those bright eyes were looking at him, not with fear, but with curiosity. Lloyd swallowed, not lowering the stake.

“I… yes. Why should that matter?”

“You seem like you’re the type of person who wants their first slaying to be special.” He didn’t make a move to grab for Lloyd’s weapon. His hand, pressing gently into his shoulder, felt almost comforting. “Is that right?”

He nodded slowly. “I was so sure tonight was going to be the night. Everything seemed perfect, but now that it’s time to actually do it…”

“You have performance anxiety?”

Lloyd sighed and finally put the stake down. “I really blew it, I guess.”

“No,” Bradley said consolingly, patting his hand. “You did a lot just by coming here! If you’re not comfortable with slaying me tonight, that’s your choice.”

“Are you sure that’s not just your instinct to stay alive talking?”

“Well, partially,” he admitted. “But I’d still say that even if you weren’t bent on putting a stake in me.” He pushed his hair back. “I don’t take blood from anyone who isn’t ready, either. But you already know that. I saw you watching me all night.”

Lloyd had thought he’d been subtle. He sat on the corner of the bed, brows furrowed in resignation. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said. “Everyone expected me to slay you tonight, but you’re not hurting anyone. I can’t.”

Bradley considered this. “You could go back and say that you put up a hell of a fight, but I got away. I could even tear your clothes a little to really sell it.”

“I feel like they might come to look for you,” Lloyd said. Bradley seemed like he could handle himself, but he didn’t want his friends to try and finish the job. “Couldn’t you turn into a bat and hide out of sight til we leave?”

“Ordinarily, sure. But at the moment, I’m so full that it’s not feasible.” He rubbed his belly. “It’s going to take me a while to digest all this.”

“Ah. Too bad,” said Lloyd, trying not to imagine how it would feel if he brushed his fingers over that satiated stomach. There were more important things at hand. “Maybe if we-“

The sound of quick footsteps came from down the hall, followed by another pair close behind. The door handle turned. One of Lloyd’s friends threw open the door, stake poised at the ready. Their eyes met Lloyd’s panicked ones, then traveled to Bradley, lying shirtless and slightly bemused on the bed.

“Oh,” they said, and then, dropping their stake, “oh, shit. Sorry.” The woman from earlier caught up to them as they closed the door. Lloyd caught her expression change from concern to relief right before it shut.

They stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Lloyd started to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“That could’ve gone worse,” he said. “I know it’s kind of bold to ask this as a party crasher, but can I take a minute before I go face the music?”

“Stay as long as you like,” Bradley said. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

Lloyd lay on his side along the width of the bed, perpendicular to his new friend. “Is it cool to ask how you became a vampire?”

“Sure, but you have to tell me what got you into vampire hunting afterwards…”

A little while later, they came downstairs together. Bradley had his shirt back on, though he hadn’t bothered to button it. Lloyd’s friends were gawking at the two of them with various astonished expressions, but he found he didn’t really mind. 

After he’d ushered them out of the house, Bradley gave Lloyd a quick peck on the cheek. “Feel free to come to the next one,” he said. “I always appreciate good company.”

Lloyd squeezed his hand. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”