#technically counts as an analysis. so

[ar1mas]

- a rant

no because ive watched this stupid show 5 years ago, and i only noticed this now?? how???

ok. some context first. this is about fox' gotham, a prequel series to batman. or at least a potential one with slight changes. one of those changes is the relationship between oswald cobblepot and edward nygma (spelled with a 'y' for mayhap legal reasons? idfk its silly). whats their relationship like in the show? well...

theyre gay af. idk what to tell you.

okay so oswalds gay as fuck. edwards... ambiguous. totally ambiguous. he had a girlfriend or 2 and a half (kristen kringle, the-woman-who-shall-not-be-named (aka kristen but... blonde? this show is weird), and lee. not comfy counting lee, but technically shes one, hence the 'and a half')! very straight, much hetero (on another side note how tf is oswald the gay one, like i know he wears make-up and shit but eddies all about theatrics and showmanship and flair and hOW IS OSWALD THE GAY ONE NEXT TO HIM?? ok anyway).

so oswald was (is. be real.) canonically in love with ed, ed was.........., and 'penguin in love' is a piece of music composed by david russo for season three in which the whole "im in love with my best friend" thing took place.

that song has been used all over season three, as far as i can tell not once in season four, and once in season five.

.....or so i thought.

because yesterday, while in another obsession phase (of which i get one a few times a year. ive only ever watched the show once, in 2019, when it ended. still dream about nygmobblepot though. i dont dream about media, like ever, but with them, its different), i saw 5x8 to satiate my never satisfied craving of nygmob scenes, obviously skipping the main story bc i dont care about that straight shit. i got to the scene where oswald kills mr. scarface and frees arthur penn from said mr. scarface, after which ed shoots him in the head because thats what one does in such a situation, thought "aw how cute", again, as one does, and then realised.

what was that background music just now? rewinds.... oh. oh haha, its 'penguin in love'. how fun.

WHAT.

WHY IS THAT IN THERE. WHY DID THEY INCLUDE IT.

correction. it wouldve made sense to have it here. they used it in 5x5 for the speech about not backstabbing each other (wedding vows for murderers fr fr), so using it again after their relationship has solidified wouldve made sense.

note how im saying 'would have'.

because it would have made sense, if they used it when ed said "i accept you for the person that you are, just as you accept me for the cold logician that i am. thats why this friendship is great." they didnt, though. they used another equally heartfelt song for that. dunno what its called, it sounds a bit like 'penguin in love' but isnt, not sure if that one has a specific meaning like 'penguin in love' does.

so when was the song used? at 36:08 – 36:17. barely ten seconds, right before eds lines, right before ed kills penn.

...right when penn was sitting in oswalds lap because theyd been fighting for the gun and os fell on the ground.

now. the most obvious answer to "why in the fucking hell" would be because ooh this dudes on his lap so sexy, but no. no. 'penguin in love' is about one specific thing: love. the pure kind. the kind that makes you giddy with butterflies in your stomach, kicking your legs, while youre on your bed, writing in your diary about this guy you have a crush on. and oswald and penn do have history, oswald was more or less fond of penn, but not in love (i mean where would he have found the room in his heart if it was already filled with EDWARD EDWARD EDWARD martin my sweet boy EDWARD EDWARD EDWA-). im also definitely not thinking that penn was so happy about being free from mr. scarfaces influence and not having to kill oswald (oh yeah, the horror. who would wanna kill oswald, the guy with the big ego, who never does anything for anyone without some kind of endgoal- well, unless your name is edward of course) that he instantly fell in love with the guy. i can deal with the homicidal kind of crazy, but that? no. thats where i draw the line.

the next most obvious answer is that it was about oswalds love for ed. more believable, since its what the song was made for, but more believable doesnt mean believable. or likely. because even if i 100% believe that hes been loving this dude for so long its not something he has to think about anymore for it to be true, im pretty sure that itd be very random to suddenly focus on that when oswald was just about to die. so no, even if its what the song is intrinsically about.

so next most obvious answer is- wait. thats it. huh? theres no obvious answer anymore? everything else is brainrot? oh. oh well. its been five years, im sure its too late to worry about it now. what the hell.

im sure you know where im going with this. or maybe not. honestly idk what the fuck im talking about-

youre smart. you know what im about to say. if it wasnt about what oswald was feeling because he was otherwise preoccupied, and it wasnt about penn because that makes no fucking sense, then who was this song used for? who else was in the room?

...oh.

YOU.

YOU FUCKING IMBECILE. YOU STUPID DENSE PIECE OF-

inhale, exhale. no. don’ get mad, you know he cant help it. you know hes totally helpless when it comes to emotions. just breathe. ok.

i hate him. i hate him so much.

if the song wasnt for oswalds sake, it was for his. because i know hes in love with oswald, but does ed? does the producers??

'penguin in love' is about oswalds love. its about his love for edward. its about their love, their relationship. its about edward just as much as it is about oswald.

a-fucking-PPARANTLY, I DIDNT KNOW THAT!! I JUST THOUGHT OH YEAH OZZY BE THE GAY ONE HAHA FUNNY, I DIDNT KNOW IT COULD BE ABOUT ED DIRECTLY!!!

(why am i like this? what is my life? i will never be normal.)

ed has always been the obsessive one. first kristen (and the woman who shall not be named is just an extention of that ofc), then oswald, then lee. and as weve seen with kristen, when hes obsessed with someone, he can become possessive. absolutely not on the scale oswald is on, but still. theres a wee bit of jelly there. oh you have a boyfriend? better get rid of him! oh you wanna run away from me bc i murdered your boyfriend? better keep you right in place and- oh shit did i kill you? ono D:

this is a huge oversimplification, but you get the point. its there. or at least it has to be there because why else do you get so angy that someone is sitting in the lap of your just friend because they were fighting and they ended up in that position totally accidentally? like thats not normal behaviour, for anyone, unless you have possessive tendencies.

i mean its not like penn was a threat in any way. "he wasnt the threat, the dummy was the-" like i understand ed told penn about the submarine which was supposed to be a secret, but come on, like they couldnt make sure penn wouldnt say anything. so why would ed shoot him? its not even like penn was a random dude where that type of thing would be very inconsequential, oswald knew him. hed worked for oswald, and like i said, oswald was more or less fond of the guy. penns just a poor little meow meow, y u kil him eddie? 🥺

unless this fondness was part of the problem. unless ed saw how happy oswald was to see him, got annoyed but let it slide, then used penn attacking os and knowing about the sub as an excuse to kill him. and why would oswald being happy to see penn be a problem to ed? it wouldnt be. it wouldnt be, unless ed thinks oswald is his.

which makes sense. i know im calling him names and calling him out, but like. oswald told him he loved him like 5 times 2 years prior, i dont blame him for believing that maybe theres something to it (especially since that was the point of 3x14, oswald really being in love with him and surprising himself with it). but i thought ed didnt feel the same way? because hes very hetero? because he had a full-on girlfriend before, twice, technically? because-

"the truth is oswald, you would sacrifice anyone to save your own neck. even me."

"like i said! you will always fail, because youll never change."

hm. i know this is a bit off topic, but i just got a war-flashback and... why did ed sound so hurt when he said that? "youll never change." "you would sacrifice anyone. even me." why does he care? they were friends, best friends, yes, but why does he sound like a heartbroken wife who just found out her husband cheated on her again? why does-

"honestly you deserve this. you are opportunistic, your loyalty is.. shaking, at best, and you will hurt anyone, anyone, to get what you want."

"and yes, i was not a good friend. to you or anyone. its why im alone. but i saw you for what you are and i valued that!"

...why would edward nygma, the man who literally said "i dont love you" to oswald, be jealous of even the idea that maybe penn could have something going on with oswald? and why would he act on it if hes usually so careful to not reveal his feelings (unless its about kristen. the original obsession, the american dream, the just be normal, show them you are normal, and people will accept you)? he wouldnt.

unless oswald just told him that he knows he messed up. that hes sorry for it.

and unless that made him think that maybe theres a chance.

"love is about sacrifice. its about putting someone elses needs and happiness before your own."

"you gave up your revenge for me?"

a chance... for what?

"life begins anew."

"shall we get to work?"

and if theres a chance, hes not about to risk losing it. not this time.

so maybe 'penguin in love' is about more than just oswalds feelings. maybe they were trying to tell us that, yes, we see you traumatised gay kid, were sorry this is all we can give you, but here you go, eds in love with him too, but don’t tell the channel. subtlely. just for barely ten seconds. and maybe it can be enough.

nope, it wont be. im gonna sit here crying about the injustice of not having them kiss on screen in the finale as was originally intended for the rest of my life. seriously though, what is this, nbc's hannibal, where im noticing something new details every single time i watch the show, causing me to spiral? no, i was already spiralling. the spiralling was the reason i rewatched the scene. the scene simply made it worse.

so yeah, im done freaking out about a mediocre show that was cancelled 5 years ago and is honestly not worth anyones time (like, its ok. it might even be better than i remember since its been so long. i doubt it. but its ok).

tl;dr: ive only now realised that a specific gay song plays in a specific episode of a show i watched 5 years ago and the only reason theyd include it in the episode is if the dude that was not canonically in love with the other dude was in fact gay, they just werent allowed to make it canon, so they added the gay song to subtlely tell us about it.

have a wonderful day, hellsite. dont do what i did and go crazy about fictional gay people. i know you will though, that’s why im here too. i hate gay people. these two make me homophobic so bad, i wanna gauge my eyes out and skin myself-

[fruity-pontmercy]

Les Mis adaptations and apolitical appropriation

I think it's no secret on this blog that I love the original Les Mis 1980 concept album in French, and that I also love comparing different versions of the stage musical. I've noticed that Les Mis seems to get progressively more vaguely apolitical as time goes on, not only in the way it's viewed in our culture, but in the actual text as well.

It's natural for specifics to be lost in adaptation. It's easier to get people to care about 'the people vs. the king' in a relatively short musical rather than actually facing the audience with the absolute mess that were 19th century french politics (monarchist orleanists vs monarchist legitimists vs imperialist vs bonapartist democrats vs every flavour of republican imaginable). Still, I feel that as time goes on, as more revivals and adaptations of the stage musical come out, the more watered down its politics become. Like, Les Mis at it's core is just meant to be a fancily written, drawn out political essay, right?

In a way I feel that the 1980 concept album almost tried to modernise it with its symbols of progress. Yes, through Enjolras' infamous disco segment (and other similar allusions to the ideals of social change), but perhaps most interestingly to me, through one short line that threw me off when I first heard it, because it seems so insignificant, but might actually be the most explicitly leftist line of all of Les Mis.

"Son coeur vibrait à gauche et il le proclama" (roughly "His heart beat to the left and he proclaimed it" i.e: he was a leftist) Feuilly says, while speaking of the now dead général Lamarque in Les Amis de L'ABC.

What's that? An actual mention of leftism??? in MY vaguely progressive yet apolitical musical??? More seriously, this mention of leftism, clashing with the rest of the musical due to it's seeming anachronism, is interesting not because it's actually more political than anything else in Les Mis, rather, because it's not scared to explicitly name what it's trying to do.

But we've come a long way from the Concept Album days, it's been 43 years, and Les Misérables is now one of the most famous and beloved musicals in the entire world. It's been revived and reimagined and adapted in a million ways, in different mediums, in different languages and countries, and it's clear that it's changed along with it's audience.

On top of pointing out a cool line in my favourite version of the musical, I wanted to write this post to reflect on the perception of the political message of this work. We as a Les Mis fandom on Tumblr are very political, I don't need to tell you that, however, I feel that because this very left leaning space has sprung out of a work we all love so much, we oftentimes forget to revisit it from a more objective point of view.

Les Misérables has a history of being misrepresented, this has been true since it's publication, since american confederate soldiers became entranced with their censored translation Lee's Miserables. However, with it's musical adaptation, this misinterpretation has been made not only more accessible but also easier. As much as I love musical theatre and I think it is at it's best an incredible art form able to communicate complex themes visulally by the masses for the masses, I think it'd be idealistic to ignore the fact that the people who can afford to go see musicals regularly are, usually, not the common folk. Broadway and the West End are industries which, like most, need money to keep them afloat, and are loved people of all political backgrounds (and unfortunately, often older conservatives) not just communists on tumblr. We've seen the way Les Miz UK's social media team constantly misses the mark regarding different social issues, and the way Cameron Makintosh has used the musical to propagate his transphobia, and most of us can agree that these actions are in complete antithesis with the message of Les Misérables as a novel.

But I must ask, how does Les Mis ,as a West End musical in it's current form, actually drive a leftist message, and how are we as a community helping if every time someone relating to the musical messes up if we just claim they "don't get it"?

I'm thinking in particular of incidents like last october, where Just Stop Oil crashed Les Mis at the West End. Whether you think it's good activism or not is not the question I think, this instance is interesting particularly because it shows that, outside of Les Misérables analysis circles and fandom spaces, it is not recognised as an inherently leftist, political or activist work, and instead of just saying they completely missed the point of the musical, I think it'd be interesting to take a step back and look at what the musical as it stands actually represents in our culture today.

I don't pretend to have all the answers, so I won't try to give one, but I do hope we can reflect on this a bit.

[ofthehands]

Question for TCM fans: What do you think the reason is that there's such a big age gap between Drayton and the rest of his brothers? Like I wouldn't be surprised if the real reason is that Hooper wrote him as a nebulous old man then decided later that he's their brother, but now that it's the canon we have, what do you think the in universe reason is?

I tend to lean towards the idea that they share a mother, but have different fathers, and that she had Drayton quite young, though the twins and Drayton share a pretty strong resemblance (though again it could be a total casting coincidence lol).

I think it also could be possible that they all share parents, and there's more (deceased) Sawyer siblings than we see, with Drayton, the twins, and Bubba being the only to survive to adulthood + avoid leaving the home, with the younger brothers likely being dependent on Drayton from a very young age + their parents being out of the picture by then. I feel like this one takes a big more stretching/ expanding on scraps of canon, bc I got this idea almost entirely from the Cornbugs song Buried Child, in which Chop Top sings about buried children (go figure lol), particularly these lines -

Which seem out of place with the way the Sawyers behave. Like we've never seen them kill kids, but I would imagine they would, and don't expect they'd treat them any differently from other victims. So in my mind it makes sense the buried nameless child "gone too soon" could be another Sawyer sibling.

Idk, there's a lot of explanations that could make sense, these are just the two I go with most often. What's your ideas?

[foreststarflaime]

Ouchie ouch that the Tseng limit break in Crisis Core is on the wastes, where he in fact could have saved Zack with an air strike had he been fast enough

Tseng: “Is this the end?”

Zack: “No! Not if I can help it!”

And their dialogues are basically mirror to what they would be in Zack’s final battle. Zack having resigned himself to the fact that he’s dying there while the Turks rush against hope to find him first and bring him back alive

[grimm-the-tiger]

Fallen London attended the “Don’t bury your gays but make them SUFFER” school of writing and you can tell. 

[pallases]

YGHHHHFHF interviews are a joke

[queers-gambit]

God's Plan

prompt: your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities. or when Carmy calls you clingy.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 3.3k+

note: she's short. she's to the point. author doesn't want to hear a GODDAMN THING about "glorifying" toxic relationships. shut the fuck up, eat your cereal, read the fic or just scroll away.

warnings: cursing, small angst, short fic, author mildly gave up, hurt with no real comfort, allusion to toxic family relationship, insecurity, not edited.

part two: Two to Tango

"Hey, what're you still doin' here?"

You glanced up from your computer, smiling at your coworker, "Just trying to get the study notes finished so they can be used for the analysis."

"Okay...? But you realize what time it is, right?"

You hummed, glancing at the analog clock, "Just about 7?"

"Yeah, so, go home," she chuckled. "Work's still gonna be here tomorrow."

"I'll see you then," you dismissed softly, watching her smile and turn away from your desk. You tried to get back into work, but the truth was, you felt overly burned out, but still wanted to work because it'd make you feel better being "good" at your job.

So, in reality, you didn't get home until 10:56 pm, yet still beat Carmy. You ate something simple, cleaned up, got a shower, and crashed into bed. You didn't know the time, but Carmy eventually came home; his arm heavy around you when settling for sleep.

You were the first up and out the door the next morning, just barely seeing Carmy when he got up for coffee. You managed a single kiss before rushing away, needing to get to work on time. When you got there, your entire morning was blocked for client meetings, then you took lunch, later, team meetings, and then the last hour or so of work was meant for individual recreation.

Another day of staying late, trying to finish work you thought was important. Another day of getting home late, missing your man, going to bed, and only seeing him the following morning.

However, this time at work, your boss told you that the analysis meetings were pushed back by a week... So, technically, you stayed late and busted your ass for no literal reason! And your coworker's entire cup of coffee spilled on you. And your Outlook email was under maintenance, so, you couldn't really work. And then, to top off a really shitty week, your car was hit in the parking lot and now had a huge fucking dent.

You were beat.

You were overwhelmed.

You were miserable, stressed, righteously confused.

You didn't stay late that night. Instead, you left at a normal hour and texted Carmy:

what time do you think you'll be off?

He replied when you got to your car:

maybe around 8?

You sniffled, nodding, answering:

okay, see you when you get home.

As you exited the parking lot, he replied:

what? you're off?

And you answered:

yeah, couldn't stand being there much longer. think you could get off a little early?

When you made three turns, he sent back:

i'll try, peach 💙

When you got home, you felt utterly defeated. Life felt like a never ending shitshow that refused to alleviate most of the stress you forced to endure. You were in tears by the time you got in the door, angrily stripping and getting a long, hot shower. You cried a little longer. When you got out, you got dressed in cozy shorts and one of Carmy's sweatshirts; going about a few household chores when you realized it was already past 9.

You didn't really want to, but you texted Carmy again,

hey, are you gonna be much later?

You made a simple meal, eating it in silence. When you were doing dishes, Carmy answered,

i don't know, going over menu items with syd. text you on my way home

You just went to bed, exhaustion from the week catching up to you.

Sometime later, you felt Carmy crawl into bed beside you. You were only half awake, but still turned over and nestled into his chest, hearing him sigh. "You're home late," you mumbled.

"Sorry f'wakin' you, Peach," he whispered, pecking your forehead. "You good, baby?"

"S'been a long fuckin' week," you squeezed him.

He sighed, "Sorry it was rough, Peach, but hey, hey, back up a little, 's kinda warm."

"But I haven't seen you."

"I know, but it's just warm. We'll cuddle in the morning, okay?" You only sighed and turned back over to face away from him. You resettled with your pillow, just settling when he asked in a hardened tone, "You mad?"

"No, Carmen, go to sleep."

"You sound mad."

"I'm not."

"I don't mean to piss you off, it's just been a long night f'me and I don't want to cuddle right now," he said in a sharp tone that made your stomach coil and churn.

"Shut up, I'm not mad, Carmen, go to sleep."

He scoffed, your irritation spiking. "You're really fucking mad 'cause I don't want you laying on me right now?"

"No, Carmen, Jesus - "

"Callin' me fuckin' Carmen doesn't help," he snapped.

You sat up and turned to him, "You want me to be mad? Maybe I'm a little pissed off that I've barely seen my boyfriend this week! Not like you've made an effort to speak to me, but I've had a pretty shitty time at work, too - so, excuse the fuck outta me for feeling disappointed!"

"Disappointed in fucking what, Peach? In not wanting t'cuddle right now?"

"Maybe, yeah! I'm upset, stressed out, maybe I just wanted some comfort, God! Now you're all up in arms, I just wanted to go to sleep - but no, you want to pick at me!"

"Oh, Jesus, fucking Christ! You couldn't just talk to me about you having a shitty week, you gotta be laid up on me? When the fuck did you get so Goddamn clingy and desperate for fucking attention? Huh? So fucking desperate for love? Sorry you had a shitty week, darling, but you're not alone in that. Sorry if it's fucking hot and I just want to sleep."

Feeling yourself fighting a losing battle because he wasn't listening, you just sighed, "Okay, Carmen."

He scoffed again, turning over to face away from you, "Know what? Fuck you, sweetheart."

You stared at his back for a long minute, feeling shocked by his words. "You can be such a fucking dick, you know that?" You snapped, standing from bed.

"And you can be a dramatic bitch."

"Yeah, that's me, the bitch you chose, huh!?" You rolled your eyes and nodded sarcastically; taking the blanket from the end of the bed, figuring he wouldn't miss it since he was so fucking hot. With only your phone and charger, you went out to the living room and crashed on the couch; covering up and crying quietly into a pillow from the overwhelming stress built in your chest. You felt guilt plunging your stomach, tearing it apart; feeling as if it were your fault for having physical touch as a love language.

Sleep evaded you that night. About an hour before your alarm, you called in sick and shut your phone off, resettling in misery as Carmy left the bedroom for work. You didn't move, never opened your eyes. However, they popped open in surprise when Carmen shoved your shoulder, "Hey."

"What?" You muttered.

"You're late for work."

"Called in."

He snorted, "Yeah, must be nice."

You didn't say anything else, feeling utterly defeated by his sharp words. The lack of response made Carmy pause and glance over at you from the kitchen, honest surprise coloring his system because he usually knew you to bite back. But you were quiet and still, the only indication you were even alive being the slow drag of your shoulders.

He let the door slam after he left for work, and you instantly sobbed. What you didn't know was that Carmy had come back, forgetting something mundane, and came to a halt outside the door when he heard you crying. He felt guilty, but Carmy wasn't usually one to confront problems; he instead ran away, like always.

After a night of exhaustion, you finally cry yourself to sleep.

When Carmy got home that night after work, he found you still huddled on the couch. After a look around, he realized you hadn't moved all day; nothing to eat, nothing to drink... He wanted to wake you but still felt so fucking irritated from his job that the idea of reconciling with you felt far fetched. So, he did what he did best and isolated himself by going to the gym for a few hours.

You still hadn't woken up when he got back.

So, he just went to bed; hating sleeping alone but hating his pride more because it refused to let him get up and go get you. Carry you to bed. Smother you in apologies. Beg for forgiveness. He was cold that night.

You were awake around 4 am.

The entire apartment felt as cold and aloof as your boyfriend. You felt so silly for still being there, knowing you paid for an apartment of your own, but liking that Carmy's place was closer to your work. And he never asked you to leave, in fact, the times you went home, he was calling you within hours to beg you to come back because he hated sleeping alone.

Whatever happened to that lad? The one who was so in-love with you that he would desperately ask you to come "home" to him? Who was this man now? Who called you clingy, desperate... A bitch.

You could only stand to make coffee, feeling powerless in this tension. You didn't want him to ignore you any longer, feeling like you'd drop to your knees for his forgiveness if it would end this feud; but you weren't so naïve. You spent several long minutes mentally prepping yourself for more anxiety, telling yourself you could handle the day if you just powered through it. Everything should be fine so long as you didn't do anything else to upset him, as long as you didn't do anything to warrant him yelling at you - again.

You finally decided on an emotion, since you could feel so many at any given point in time, and since this situation was one you've never encountered before. Carmy had brought forth one of your biggest insecurities and then smashed it in your face like punk-ass siblings did to your birthday cake. You decided you were hurt by his words, tone, and actions; you were hurt by the man you loved unconditionally, and that was a terrifying thought on its own. He was once a man you thought couldn't do any wrong, to now being a man you were unsure of how to even speak to; fearful, as you once were as a child, to upset him and create hostility directed at you.

Carmy often forgot he didn't have a monopoly on toxic, complicated family dynamics, but being that Mikey was still so fresh for him, you kept quiet about your own issues in an effort to be a loving, supportive girlfriend. Yet even while trying not to upset anyone, to create tension, you somehow managed to. You felt your heart and soul shrivel into a withered raisin when you remembered your family and how they constantly put you down; saying that nobody wanted a girl like you who tried, tried, and tried again only to fail. They thought you were damaged goods, treated you as such and always smeared your name in the mud whenever you thought you had found someone to love you and be loved by you.

All that trauma was rearing its ugly head now, making doubt sink into the cracks of your relationship. No matter how hard he tried, Carmy couldn't ever take those words back once they've been said, and he had to understand that going forward, this would strain your relationship. Taking anger and frustration out on you was inappropriate, putting a bad taste in your mouth; making you wonder how the hell you'd ever move past this when his words circled your head like water draining from the sink.

Sometime around 9 am, you were curled up on the couch with your coffee and a book; Saturday dragging by slowly to allow you the reprieve of being off work. The bedroom door opened and you held your breath; sweat breaking out on your brow; heart stammering in your chest. When he came out, Carmy didn't look at you, which allowed you to watch him. He made a to-go cup of coffee, then shouldered his backpack before heading for the door.

"Carmy?" You asked softly in confusion, "I thought you were off today?"

"I am," he replied stiffly, "but I gotta run errands."

You didn't have time to respond before he was storming out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. You blinked in shock, confusion plunging your heart to your feet as you realized he didn't ask you to join him, in fact, he didn't appear to want to tell you his plans until you had to ask directly when he was walking out the door. You felt terrible, more tears swelling in your eyes at the discord your boyfriend prolonged.

Something in your heart snapped and you stood from your seat. With anger coursing through your veins, you turned into a miniature tornado and quickly started gathering whatever you could get your hands on that belonged to you. You had enough, you felt hurt, yes, we established this, but then the disrespect started to overflow out of your heart to color your blood. Never linger where you're not wanted, you should never tear yourself down to that level. Never should have to second guess yourself, either - especially in a space where you're supposed to be safe.

You started to wonder: is it clingy if you made dinner and saved him a plate? Is it clingy if you did his laundry? What about cuddling? Is that clingy? Well, apparently! What else are you wrong about? If you texted him? Asked his opinion? What about if you held his hand - is that clingy, too? Probably!

Physical touch and quality time were your love languages, but after this reaction, you wondered if everything you'd do from now on would be judged? Would you be crucified for showing your love? For trying to participate in your relationship?

All day, you moved your stuff back to your apartment. All shoes, clothes, purses, make-up, haircare and skincare products - any and all period products, too. You left fucking nothing; going as far as to lay face-down the photo of your two on his bedside stand. You'd of taken it, too, but you felt sick at the thought so you left it for him. Sunday night, you didn't return to his apartment, and Carmy didn't call to say goodnight; both figuring the other was still pissed off. Your Monday was long and annoying, but once it was over, you had to admit, it was strange returning to an empty apartment, heat up leftovers, eat while watching some Netflix show, and then crashing into bed - moving mechanically.

Days passed uneventfully, albeit, a bit sluggishly. And then, Thursday arrived, and with it, the shit that would hit the fan.

You were enraptured in this book by Anne Tyler called "Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant," and couldn't stop reading it. You nursed a mug of tea, the outside darkening with an approaching thunderstorm that would talk to you in the silence and send bolts of lightning to illuminate the city. A shrill ringtone then played, making you jump slightly and glance at your phone only to see Carmy's contact name and photo.

You stare at your phone for a long moment, and then, after convincing yourself that ignoring him would only add fuel to the fire, answered quietly, "Hello?"

"Peach? Hey, uh... Are you, um, still at work?"

"No?"

"Where are you, then?"

"I'm home."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"I'm standing right here and you're not, baby, unless you got superpowers or something?" He chuckled nervously, hearing nothing on your end. "In fact, I, uh... I don't see any of your things. You move 'em?"

He'd never admit it, but your personal touch in his living space transformed it into a home; and now that they were all gone, he hated how cold, dreary, and grey the apartment felt.

"Carmy, I mean my home. You know? The apartment I still pay for?"

"Oh, well... Why're you there?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I had to bring my stuff back and leave it somewhere safe."

"It was safe here, Peach," he argued.

"Yeah, but it's your space and last thing I need is to be yelled at and insulted again for being clingy 'cause I left clothes at your apartment."

"Fuc'k's sake," You heard him hiss under his breath, bringing tears to your eyes. "You know I don't mind, I want you to leave shit here so it's easier on you to commute. Look, you know it's Thursday, right? Does our standing date night ring any bells?"

"Okay, but we haven't honored that in weeks? You know, 'cause you've been really busy."

"I thought we could get back into it tonight."

You sighed, turning the page in your book, "No, I don't think so, but thanks anyway."

He took a long pause, asking nervously, "What's wrong, Peach?"

"Nothing. Is there anything else, Carmen? I'm in the middle of shit."

"Oh, uh, n-no, I guess that's it. You comin' over tomorrow?"

"No. I told my brother I'd help him this weekend."

"But tomorrow's... Friday?"

"Yeah, that's how a calendar works. I have to travel to get to him," you scoffed.

"You didn't think to tell me?"

"Why would I?"

"You tell me everything! You don't think that's something I should know? That my girl's not even gonna be here this weekend?"

"Well, you're the one who said I was fucking clingy, remember!?" You finally snapped. "So, I'm giving you all that space you wanted!"

"Baby - "

"No, it's a great idea. We need space, Carmen; this isn't fair to either of us anymore," you spoke seriously, the line going quiet.

"What?"

"We need space from this relationship."

"I don't. I don't need space, Peach, baby, no, just listen, okay? I'm so sorry, I came home stressed out and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, I really am, this isn't what I want. Okay? I'm sorry. Just - come back home and we can - "

"No, you know what? I think I'm the one who needs this space," you snapped. "You said some pretty fucked up things, Carmen, that you can't ever take back, and now that I know, I can't un-know what you think about me. So, I need time to sort myself out."

"What're you saying? A-Are you breaking up with me?"

"Not yet, no."

"Baby, don't do this. C'mon, okay? I'm sorry, baby, I-I-I was wrong for what I said, I didn't - I didn't mean it! None of it, okay? Know I love you, baby, please, just come home, okay? I'm so sorry, I love that you wanna be close to me, I shouldn't've pushed you away. I'm sorry, okay? Please, baby, I'm so sorry. I need you, Peach, please. Just come home, we'll talk it through, I promise, no yelling - "

"I think you already said it all. Your words were 'clingy' and 'desperate'. Oh, and you also called me a 'bitch', so, I'd hate to be the bitch that makes your already stressful life all the harder."

"I didn't mean that - "

"I gotta go, Carmen, we'll talk later, okay? Goodnight."

He froze when he listened to those three distinct beeps that indicated you hung up on him. Confusion and hurt now seeped into the cracks of Carmy's heart; wondering when the hell he'd become so Goddamn self destructive to ruin the best thing he's ever had - you. The apartment might as well turned into ice with the way the light left, your departure suddenly haunting him.

When will these boys learn? The love of a good woman is rare, they'd only ever be so lucky as to think they deserve a woman like you. Nobody ever gets to guilt you for your love language(s) and then grovel for forgiveness. You deserve better, you deserve more; whether you could see that right now or not, you deserved to be loved in the best way for you. And sometimes, that means walking away from something you once thought was exactly what you wanted, but perhaps, never what you needed - call that God's Plan.

[ part two: ] Two to Tango

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[vsimp]

say something (song drabble) - inspo

word count: 2.9k

pairings: alhaitham, ayato, childe, xiao, zhongli/morax (x reader)

genre: angst/hurt/no comfort

summary: they lose you

Warning: presumed death/injury of reader, mentions of blood

Alhaitham x "I’m giving up on you"

Arguments with no happy endings. Rough words that could never be taken back or forgotten.

Alhaitham was the true definition of stubborn.

It was “rationality,” as he so called it. He liked to say things as it is, and there was no need to include your emotions into these conversations, as they influence your motives and produce bias.

Technical, yet cold and harsh at the same time, Alhaitham would leave no room for arguments when he knew that he was in the right. To even validate your feelings would be impossible for him because that was who he was; an intuitive scholar who knew wisdom beyond his years.

Then when was his wisdom too much for others to bear? Was there truly such a thing as too much knowledge?

He couldn’t even fathom such an idea.

And as he argued with you, his mind only thinking of rationality, reason, logic, and analysis, he deliberately ignored the way your tears streamed down your cheeks, how your hoarse voice broke as you cried about your relationship with him.

He then doubted himself for ever thinking he could get into a relationship. Hah. Something like this could never work out again. You both were just too different, or so that was what he’d tell himself as you both slept in separate rooms that night.

But as the house grew emptier and emptier, as you moved all of your stuff out, taking every single thing in his home that made it feel like… an actual home… he grew strangely uncomfortable.

Even as he looked back to that day of the argument, he knew he was right, and that your worries were of no substance. But why did your expression shake up his heart? Why did you make his chest ache? And why did he suddenly feel so empty all of the sudden?

The questions were answered very soon, after every single one of your items have been removed from his house.

And it was at that moment when Alhaitham realized that his house no longer felt like home. And then he realized the true reason for those inexplicable emotions, as he found the present he gave you during one of your birthdays. It was a promise ring, adjourned with your favorite gemstone. He remembered how you loved it so much that you would never take it off your finger.

Yet here it was, left on a note with one simple word.

“Goodbye.”

That was the day when he figured out quickly that even if he had all the knowledge in the world, nothing else could have mattered more, for as long as he had you, he would be the happiest man in the universe. It was a severe lapse in judgment on his part, and a true mistake that he so bitterly had to realize far too late.

He had lost you. You had given up on him.

He had nobody else to blame but himself.

Kamisato Ayato x "I’m still learning to love"

As the head of the Kamisato Clan, Ayato always had to remain vigilant at all times. He had to prepare for any worst case possible while also trying to actively prevent it from happening. It was the reason why he wore a mask around everybody who he knew.

He feared that if he were to let his guard down, revealing what truly laid underneath the mask, they would take advantage of his vulnerabilities and strike down everything he was ever trying to protect.

And that was the reason why he never trusted you, his own spouse. He had agreed to a marriage with you quite easily, as your family had something he wanted, and in exchange, he would take your hand in marriage, thus binding you and your family tree to the prestigious Kamisato Clan.

Ayato had assumed the worst about you, as your family had not given him the best impression either.

As he got to know you, however, he found that you were beyond his expectations. You were kind, compassionate, and intelligent. You did everything you could so that the clan and the Yashiro Commission could thrive.

You comforted him on the days when he truly was stressed out from all of his work, took on his pain as if it were yours. Not only were you beautiful, but you made him feel as if everything was going to be truly okay in the end, so long as you could give him that smile.

He almost admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with you.

Yet, a silly ploy from your family, one of spite over the fact that you were thriving in such a place, had ruined your marriage into shambles.

Ayato had lost his trust in you. Your family had planted false incriminating evidence, one that insinuated that you were plotting the downfall of the Yashiro Commission. You weren’t able to defend yourself, and you asked him if he really thought you were the type of person to commit such atrocious acts.

His eyes wavered for a moment at your question. But the "you" in his memory grew fuzzy as the thought that everything he was trying to protect was being jeopardized, that he shouldn’t throw everything he’s built over a mere spouse. That you were one of the people trying to harm him and his family.

That night, he muttered cold words to you. As if you were never even considered part of his family at all. As if all of those memories you two once shared never mattered. You were but an outsider to him at this point.

Since the diplomats of the Yashiro Commission grew suspicious of you, pressuring him to take action, he threw you out of the household that day. Perhaps he never loved you as much as you thought he did.

With no place to go, you ran out of the estate with only some small mora and clothes.

The estate remained cold without your presence there. No longer would he be surrounded by your brightness. But a traitor wasn’t worth mulling over, or so that was what he kept telling himself as he constantly found himself looking beside him, where you would usually be.

It wasn’t until a month later did his sister Ayaka uncover the truth. She and Thoma were the only people who believed in your innocence. She presented it to Ayato, and for the first time ever, he had never seen his sister so angry at him.

Regret and guilt washed over him immediately. What had he done? He had truly messed up. But he didn’t know that it was all a ploy, and he was just trying to protect the Yashiro Commission. Surely, you would understand. Right?

His heart ached for his lover as he ran all over the streets to find you. Ayaka had told him where you had been staying. He wasted no time to get there as soon as he could.

Ayato couldn’t forget the way those cold eyes of yours looked at him. He tried to apologize, but you just gave him a look of disappointment. It was like a slap to his face, a harsh wake up call as reality hit him. Maybe if he had trusted you more, maybe if he had trusted in his own love for you more, this would have never happened.

And yet, here you were, in the middle of a ragged, old inn that you could barely afford without the help of his sister, your clothes worn out as you had been doing everything by yourself the last month, and your cold eyes that no longer held the same love and affection for him as before— he knew that there were no more chances for him.

You slammed the wooden door shut in front of his face that day.

Childe x "I will swallow my pride / you’re the one that I love"

“You don’t understand. This is my job as the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. My only duty is to serve the Tsaritsa. I can’t always be there for you.”

Those were his cold words that pushed you away. He was too blind to see what was truly in front of him at the time.

Childe strived for strength. He enjoyed fighting you, as he felt that you were both equal in terms of strength, and that he could grow in power with you. But that was all he saw you as—a sparring companion.

So when you started to hope for more, he instantly grew detached. It was like walking through a narrowed tunnel, where the only thing he saw was his goal.

There were no emotions as you confessed your love to him. An apathetic gaze that shook your emotions to your very core. It was only then that day when you realized that the heart you wanted to capture was unreachable. He had built icy walls that were impenetrable.

So you decided to give up on him.

Childe didn’t think too much of it. You were just a battle partner to him anyways.

He told himself that, but why did his heart ache when he recalled your tears? Why did he suddenly feel empty now that your presence was no longer there?

The silly jokes you’d tell him, the delicious food you would cook for him, the smile you’d give to him, and him alone— you were no longer there to provide that comfort that he had missed from being so far away from home for so long. Perhaps he had even started to see you as his home outside of Snezhnaya.

He realized that all of this time, he really did love you. He loved you so much, yet he was too caught up in his beliefs to realize it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, to start a family with you, to have and to hold you until eternity has reached its end.

So he set down his pride, put aside his duties to the Cryo Archon temporarily, and he went to see you that day. And unfortunately, it had been too late.

You were smiling at another man, and he had lost you. And then he realized the true extent of the pain you felt that day when he had broken your heart.

Xiao x "anywhere, I would’ve followed you"

Xiao would never admit that he needed a companion in his life. It was his fate, his contract with destiny to serve and protect Liyue for the rest of his life, even if it cost him his very own.

He always isolated himself from the mortals, like a lonesome Qingxin blooming at the highest stone peaks. He looked down from height above, but never got too deeply involved with the matters of the mortals. It was only time, however, when somebody decided to climb those mountains and pluck him off the ground.

A hindrance to his daily affairs, and a nuisance whenever you followed him around, he knew it was his fault for forming a contract with you.

If you called his name, he would come. That was what he promised you. Be it for serious matters, whenever you needed his help with something, or for something more trivial, such as having a simple meal with you.

It was irritating to be called so frequently, but he was a man who kept true to his words.

It wasn’t until one day, you had made his favorite almond tofu dish and then called him over. It hadn’t even been a whole day yet since you’d last called for him, and you were already wanting to see him.

He had enough at this point. You couldn’t get any more involved with him. After all, he had always been alone for the last 3,000 years, and the karma he has to bear living with is too much for any regular mortal to handle. He needed to push you away.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than invite me over for something as trivial as this?” He would say coldly, not even wanting to sit down at this point. “I don’t want to spend any time with you. I truly loathe people who force others to do activities that they don’t even want to do.”

His words were much harsher that day. Although a part of him did feel bad, he needed to do this. He had to, that’s what he told himself. It didn’t bother him when you started choking into tears, nor did it bother him to see that heartbroken expression that lingered on your face.

“I just wanted to spend time with the person I love.” Your voice cried out painfully as you attempted to walk closer to him. “I would follow you everywhere, through everything and anything! You just have to let me in to your heart, Xiao!”

“Do you have any idea how stupid you sound right now? I will never love a mortal like you.”

The rejection was clear as day. He didn’t love you back. All of the time he has spent with you, the way he held you up gently after fighting some monsters, his small smile when you made him almond tofu for the first time; those memories were all rendered meaningless as he cut you open with his words.

But somehow, you knew this would happen. Your eyes looked defeated as you stared at him right then and there. You gave him a heart wrenching smile, which was a look that puzzled him the most.

He could never forget the look on your face. With eyes that stained with tears, and a beautiful, forced smile, Xiao knew that this was finally the end.

“I understand. Goodbye then, Xiao.”

He shut his eyes as you disappeared from his sight. It was inevitable that you would leave that day, yet the discomfort originating from his chest would not disappear.

Yes, this was something he had to do, no matter how painful it was, no matter how attached he was getting to you.

You never called him after that for a while. He thought it was a blessing, but somehow, the silence made it even more eerie. Like a singular piece of jigsaw that was lost amongst a thousand pieces of a puzzle.

"Xiao…” he heard you say after some time had passed. A weak voice. He knew something was wrong.

There, he found you. Laid in a puddle of crimson red. Everything was in slow motion at this point to him. He wasn't even able to assess the situation before he had pulled you immediately into his arms, calling out your own name in worry.

There was no response.

Thoughts of anger and regret washed through him, just like the heavy pouring rain that diluted your blood, like thunder that roared through the lands out of despair.

That day, he realized that this was the last time you would ever call his name.

Zhongli x "I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you."

The Geo Archon was a magnificent entity, one that inspired awe and respect from many individuals. You were but one of them who admired—no, more like adored him.

You fought alongside Morax in many battles to protect Liyue. It was your pride and joy to help with this almighty god.

But as often as you tried to pursue his affections, wanting Morax to look at you and you only, his gaze never seemed to find yours.

With a look gentler than any soft breeze in the plains of Liyue herself, you had never seen such an expression from him. He looked at Guizhong with such a tenderness, even dedicating a beautiful song on the lyre for her, bringing her glaze lilies to bloom from such a lovely song. You wondered if you could ever compete with such a beautiful goddess like her.

Your hands were tainted in blood, the malice of monsters and demons leaving scars all over your hands and arms. Your words were rougher with others, as you belonged on the battlefield, compared to the wise and kind-hearted God of Dust.

You were distracted more than usual one day, and you were injured quite badly in a battle with monsters. With blood pouring from the side of your rib cage, you immediately went to Morax to seek help. You could feel his divinity from miles away, and when you arrived to the area he supposedly stayed, your heart ached as he held Guizhong’s cheeks so gently. It hurt worse than any wound that you have even sustained.

You couldn’t help but drop your weapon. The loud clang echoed through the courtyard, and that was when the man had finally and actually looked at you.

Shock had laced in his golden eyes, his hands dropped down from her cheek to his side as he had realized the state you were currently in.

Your eyes had started to glaze over, tears pouring down your cheeks as you felt your own heart break. Your emotions were so strong, yet so ugly, that even the plants had started to wilt around you. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so you immediately turned your back away from him.

“Y/n, are you okay?!” His voice shouted as his footsteps drew closer to you, but your cold voice cut him off.

“Don’t take a single step towards me, Morax.”

He paused, unsure of whether or not to continue forward judging from your tone. Even as your blood seeped to the ground, staining the earth and dyeing the flowers around you a crimson red, you remained turned away from him.

You walked away from your unrequited love, ignoring his calls and pleas as he asked you to come back so he could treat your wounds.

You shut your eyes, enveloping yourself in the darkness.

[reidmarieprentiss]

No More Misunderstandings

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Tech Analyst fem!reader

Category: fluff

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

Word count: 9.4k

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

main masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[strawburry01]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby

Ford Pines x Fem! Reader (no Y/N mentions)

Summary: Ford and you are trying to find another cryptid but a thunderstorm causes some emotions.

AN: Thanks for liking the first one all! This is technically a Part 2, but doesn't rely on anything from the first part so don't worry.

Part 1

Word Count: 2k

 You stood in your dark room, humming along to the spinning vinyl as you painstakingly converted your camcorder footage to a VCR tape. Ford always noted that you could just save them to a computer, or just keep it on the camera itself- not understanding your insistence on saving it as physical media. Something in you liked the process though. It was meditative. Being able to uncap your marker and squeakily write the date and contents on the side, and then slide it alongside the rest of them in your growing library. It was rewarding to see the pile growing. Ford still had his growing notebooks, and you now had your growing video library. Between the two of you, both of your research had really been taking off.

As soon as the grant was passed, Ford and you shoved all your collective crap into his car and drove through the night, and then some, to make it to Gravity Falls. From the moment you crossed into town, you could tell he was right with his analysis. Something about the town felt so distinctly, well, weird. It was a quiet, small town, but everyone you met had been kind, although not very outwardly chatty. To be fair, two strangers from the east coast just moved in and were far too excited to be there. It was enough to confuse and freak out anyone.

But the two of you were fine with being the talk of the town. In fact you secretly thought Ford enjoyed the positive attention based on how much he convinced you to go to Greasy’s Diner for brunch. 

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, it’s scientifically proven,” Ford would always say trying to defend the addiction. As long as he paid, you weren’t complaining.

In the background your vinyl began to skip. You grumbled and flipped it over for the next side of songs as Ford entered, head deep in his notebook, not even acknowledging your presence.

“Knocking is considerate,” you commented as you focused on your work, glancing up at him as he sat in the chair nestled in the corner of the room. You had found it on the way into town on some random road with the word FREE spray painted on a sign nearby, so after mild convincing, Ford and you were able to balance it on top of the car.

“The door was open, you relinquished knocking privileges,” he said, without looking up,

“What if I was changing?” you said, “I could’ve been naked you perv,”. You watched as his face reddened and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as he snapped out of his reading. 

You both liked each other. You felt like it was painfully obvious to everyone, even each other, but something kept you both from ever admitting it. Was it your scientific brains always insisting that it was some stupid imbalance of hormones and forced proximity? Both of your egos trying to constantly one up each other, never wanting to admit you liked the other? Perhaps the fact that if you actually admitted to liking each other, what would that mean for research? Or even worse, liking each other would mean you fell into the cliche.

But god, you had been around each other practically 24/7 for the past months now in Gravity Falls and it was only getting worse each day. Like a growing vine, only getting larger and larger. The only reason you were so confident Ford liked you back was the fact he never attempted to deflect your teasing. He was one to always correct you, or really anyone, if they said something incorrect, but whenever you taunted him, he would just redden and try to change the subject. 

Ford coughed in his chair and shifted as he uncapped his pen to continue an entry in his journal, trying to move past your teasing.

“Sounds like a safety hazard if you were in here without clothes,” he muttered. You threw a marker at him across the room.

“Don’t judge the artist, perhaps I was trying something new,” you said as you slid another tape, labeled “Gobblewonker Part 3” besides Part 1 and 2. 

“Let’s move from this hypothetical,” he said, firmly closing his journal, “there’s a storm coming in tonight according to weather reports. I wanted to try and see if we could catch the Thunderbird at some point,”.

“Pretty elusive fella, no?” you asked, scanning your tapes to see if you had anything on Thunderbirds.

“Yes, and unless you agree to a goat sacrifice this time we’ll just have to be patient and attentive,” he nodded. He really wanted you to agree to a sacrificial goat to draw one out. You crossed your arms and stared at him.

“Stanford Pines I’m not letting you go to hell for animal sacrifice,” you said.

“Fine, but don’t blame me when we can’t see one, because someone has strict morals all of the sudden,” he said as he stood up and left. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ALL OF THE SUDDEN PINES?” you shouted after him.

It was no use. He disappeared into the small cabin you were both calling home for now. It was dark when the rain started. Big drops pelleted the roof, which didn’t enthuse you as Ford insisted on setting up outside. You bundled your rain slicker close, trying to create some warmth, but instead only making your clothes underneath damp. Ford on the other hand couldn’t be bothered it seemed. He was moving around his instruments too much for his hood to actually stay on, causing his hair and glasses to be drenched. 

“Do you need help?” you asked, not being able to watch him struggle for much longer.

“Can you just line up that telescope with the gap in the trees there?” he asked with a point towards the sky. You nodded and risked your fingers in the cold to swivel the telescope until it was centered on the break in foliage. You stood back up and saw Ford staring at you before he quickly looked away. He seemed stressed, so you spared a joke.

He let out a sigh as he stood back, looking over the set up. He dragged over two lawn chairs and held out his arms, gesturing for you to sit in one. Ford was damn lucky you believed in his confidence, you thought to yourself as you sat down. You couldn’t even use your camcorder out here because of the rain. You didn’t want to risk it. 

The two of you sat, listening to the rain fall off the trees for a while until you started dozing off, catching yourself every time and jolting up. Ford scooted his chair closer and put his arm on your chair. 

“Sorry it’s so late,” he said, “sleep on my arm if you need to. You’ll ruin your neck if you keep sleeping like that,” he noted. You smirked to yourself as you took him up on the offer, leaning onto his shoulder, not minding the drops that had accumulated on his coat.Before slipping into sleep you felt him put a hand on your leg, gently running over it with his thumb.

You weren’t sure how long you were out for when a crack of lightning lit up the sky and awoke you. Ford was instantly up and checking all his devices for the elusive Thunderbird, but you were frozen to your chair. The rumble of thunder filled your ears and paralyzed you in place. It was stupid, it was so stupid. You’re from the damn east coast, get over it, your brain chided, but your body couldn’t agree. You’d always been terrified of thunder, despite your knowledge that it was unlikely anything from a lightning storm would ever hurt you, you couldn’t help that loud noises from the sky scared you to death.

“Shit, are you okay?” Ford asked, realizing that you were not by his side. He turned and saw you, sitting down, but looking thousands of miles away. You wanted to nod your head yes, that everything was fine and you were over your dumb overreaction, but you couldn’t. You stared up at him through his dewy glasses and shook your head.

“I hate thunder,” you muttered, embarrassed, flinching as another rumble went overhead, “I thought I’d gotten over it…”. Ford stared at you and then turned back to his devices. 

“Let’s go inside. These will get any data and recordings I need,” he said as he pulled you up out of the chair. 

“I’m sorry-” you started to say before he cut you off.

“Don’t apologize. It’s a very understandable fear. It’s not worth your wellbeing,” he said as he continued leading you inside. 

Inside the house the noise from above only reverberated more it seemed, causing you to jump. You caught Ford almost commenting on it, before he closed his mouth and helped you out of your rain jacket instead. You kicked off your boots at the door and they thunked with mud against the wall. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you scared,” Ford quietly remarked as he hung up his own jacket. Before you can reply there’s another rumble of thunder, louder now, causing you to jump into Ford’s arms. You feel him seize up under the sudden touch, but he quickly wraps an arm around your back with the other on the back of your head, pressing you into his red-sweatered chest. You slowly let out a shaky breath as you tried to calm your nerves. Ford slowly started running his hand up and down your back trying to calm you as well. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeated.

You two stood like this for a few minutes as lightning lit up the sky outside.

“I-I’m sorry Ford, I’ll be okay, I’m just going to go to my room,” you said as you stepped back out of his arms, despite your brain screaming at you you were a fool for doing so. 

“Can you actually sleep like this?” Ford asked, watching you walk to your room only to get stopped by another thrum of thunder. You looked over your shoulder.

 Swallow your pride you idiot, you both thought.

“Would you-”

“I could-”

“-keep me company?”

“-stay with you?”

You bit your bottom lip as you laughed, Ford laughed too and rubbed the back of his neck. Both of you could’ve been mistaken for high schoolers in that moment. 

You changed into your flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt as Ford dutifully faced the wall before changing into his boxers and one of your other oversized shirts you threw at him. 

“I don’t need this,” he said, holding it up.

“I can’t handle this much skin on you yet,” you replied as you slowly got under the covers. You felt the weight of the bed as he got in behind you. He softly grumbled complaints about wearing a shirt as he snaked his arms around your waist. 

"Is this okay?" he asked into your hair.

“Yes, now hush Pines,” you mumbled back. You shuddered a little as thunder rolled overhead again, causing Ford to tighten his hold on you.

“It’s alright, it’s alright,” he repeated as you calmed down again. You sighed into your pillow as you began to close your eyes.

“So…” Ford said, causing you to open an eye, “does this mean you like me?”.

“Do you like me?” you asked, tilting your head so you could try to face him. Ford took his chance to quickly kiss your cheek before you hid your head back into the pillow.

“Of course I am, are you kidding me? I’ve liked you since the first week of knowing you,” he said, “people aren’t friends with me, let alone people like you. You’re really important to me,”. You could feel your face heating up at his compliments as you tried to hide in the pillow, “Are you blushing? I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you do that…” he said with a chuckle.

“For fucks sake of course I am Ford, I’ve liked you for so long now too,” you admitted. The two of you were silent as rain continued to patter on the roof.

“Damn,” Ford said before nestling his head into the back of your neck, “I guess my brother was right,”.

You smiled as you began to doze off, with Ford holding onto you. Neither of you knew that you wouldn’t sleep alone again as long as you were in this universe.

Part 2.5 up

[xxselenite]

˖ ࣪⭑ All the things yet to come are the things that have passed | Jacaerys x reader

modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x gn!reader [no use of y/n] Word count: 9.8k Summary: Jace had been your rival at school for more than one year when your literature teacher paired you up for an assignment and you realised you might have misjudged him (featuring Helaena being an icon) Or Five times Jacaerys proved you wrong – and one time you did. Warning: a teeny tiny bit of angst, but it’s mostly fluff, the tiniest allusion to smut ever a/n: This is technically a prequel to Happens Great, Happens Sweet but it can be read as a standalone. I’m a sucker for academic rivals to lovers so I had to write this. This fic actually drove me crazy, I struggled so much writing it, it took me nearly a week, but I’m kinda satisfied with it. The title is from Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier (Hozier my beloved <3) Lastly, English isn’t my first language so I apologise in advance for any possible grammatical and/or lexical mistake. feedback is welcome and appreciated <3 (images are taken from pinterest)

I.

“For this analysis,” the teacher started, “you will be in duos. Each group will have a different extract from a different book to work on, and you will then present your work in front of the class.”

You immediately turned towards Helaena who sat beside you with a wide smile on your face. You saw a glimmer of joy in her eyes, matching your excitement to have the occasion to work together, but the teacher interrupted you before you could ask her to pair up with you.

“My goal here is for you to see that analysis is incredibly personal, but also to teach you how to cooperate. For this reason, I have already established the pairs that will work together.”

Several sighs and moans echoed in the room and you reported your attention on your teacher again. Mrs River, your English teacher, had made it clear since the first day that this class would be different from the others. She encouraged dialogues and debates, creative writing and personal analysis in papers. She made brutal comments but graded nicely, and you could feel how much you had improved at her contact, but moments like this made you question your admiration towards her.

As she started naming students, you tried to find a pattern in the duos she had formed. It was obvious that she wanted to avoid putting friends together, and you thought that she would put a good student with one that struggled more, but it was not done consistently. You mentally erred in your mind the names that had already been said, groaning when she put Helaena with Cregan.

“We’ll work together another time,” your best friend whispered and squeezed your hand in a comforting manner.

After a little while, Mrs River’s piercing gaze fell on you as she called your name and you listened with apprehension.

“You will work with Jacaerys Velaryon on the opening chapter of the Bell Jar, from the first line to…”

Your jaw dropped as you stopped listening. You had to be cursed, or paying for the evil deeds you had committed in another life, or the Seven were angry at you, because this could not have gone worse. You would have rather worked with anyone but Jacaerys Velaryon, the guy with whom you were always neck to neck to be on top of the class, who was half of the reasons you worked so hard – just so you could display a smug smile whenever you beat him on an assignment. The guy you had a distaste for and…

“He hates me,” you told Helaena during lunch break, hiding your face in your hands. “This is going to be a nightmare. Don’t you want to exchange? I can work with Cregan and I’m sure you’ll get along with Jacaerys very well.”

Your friend tilted her head to the side, mindlessly chewing on a weird orange vegetable that was supposed to be a carrot.

“I think I was not paired with him because I’m his cousin.”

“You’re his what now?” You dropped your fork.

“His cousin,” she said in a monotonous voice. “Well, technically his aunt but our family is weird and we’re the same age so…”

“You’re Jacaerys’s cousin and you have not told me before? While I’ve been criticising him since last year?”

The girl shrugged, her white hair falling from her shoulder like a waterfall of liquid silver.

“Didn’t think it’d matter. You’re more than allowed to dislike my family, and he’s part of my extended family anyway.”

“Great,” you said ironically, pushing your plate away from you – you were convinced today’s food was made out of radioactive wastes. “So now I’m stuck working with a guy who I hate, who hates me, and I’m gonna feel bad every time I complain about him.”

“What makes you think he hates you anyway?” Helaena asked. “He didn’t seem that upset to be paired up with you in class.”

You hated to admit it, but your best friend had a point. Earlier in class after shooting her a look that meant “help me,” you had turned around to face your foe and now partner, only to realise he was already looking at you. If his face did not show any joy, he was not as pissed off as you were – surprised and apprehensive were better words to qualify his expression.

You started thinking at the last time he had clearly displayed hatred towards you, struggling to find any substantial proof that was not a highly interpreted interaction. Chewing on your lip, you felt increasingly ridiculous under your friend’s scrutinising glance until something came to your mind.

“Last year I was reading before the class started and I overheard him talk to his friends – or maybe they form some sort of royal court around him actually – and I distinctly remember hearing him call me a goodie-two-shoes. Maybe that’s not hatred, but that’s not a sign of love either.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not a goodie-two-shoes, it’s not my fault he never saw me having fun because I don’t go parties. And there’s nothing wrong with being a goodie-two-shoes anyway!”

“Alright,” Helaena interrupted you. “I think I get the picture. Listen, I’m really sorry you’re not with someone you wanted to work with and I’d go to Mrs River to ask if we can swap partners in a heartbeat, but we both know it’d be useless. She never does anything without a specific purpose in mind. Maybe she put you together because you’re the two best students in her class?”

“I can sense you want to add something.”

Helaena twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

“I think she’s perfectly aware of the rivalry going between you two and wants to instrumentalise it.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, as your best friend had piqued your curiosity.

“Either she thinks you two collaborating means you’re both gonna try to do better than the other and push each other to be the best, or she thinks that it will appease the tension so the atmosphere isn’t electric every time there is a debate in class.”

“It’s not electric-.”

Helaena interrupted you, saying your name with a sigh. “Please, you know I love you, but you have to face the truth. I thought you were going to throw hands last time.”

“It’s not my fault! He said that Eros and Psyche were the best Greek love story when it’s obviously Orpheus and Eurydice!”

Your best friend snorted. “I shouldn’t have gotten you started on that, now you’re gonna tell me about the entire myth again. Seriously, how did you both manage to talk about mythology when the initial subject was about King Lear?”

You let out a loud sigh. “And what if he just refuses to work with me, keeps his analysis to himself until the presentation, and makes me look stupid because my analysis is different?”

Helaena offered you a reassuring smile. “He won’t do that. You know why?” You shook your head. “Because he cares way too much about his grades to sabotage your work like that.” You kept quiet for a second to let this idea sink in. “Oh by the way, can I get your carrots if you don’t eat them?”

You sighed and handed your plate to your friend with one hand, grabbing your backpack with the other to find a snack. You struggled rummaging through your stuff, the pens wandering outside of the pencil case, the crumpled sheets of paper – you were organised for many things, but not this one… Once you finally reached a chocolate bar, you jerked it out with so much energy one of your pens got thrown onto the floor.

You were about to stand up and grab it quickly before some stupid student made fun of you, but your eyes fixed on the floor failed to notice someone approaching until you saw a hand grab your pen and hand it to you. Your eyes followed the silhouette until you recognised Jace’s brown curls and the smile on his face – though you were surprised to realise that this was not the huge smirk he’d have when his grade was better than yours, this one seemed almost sincere. This made you all the more suspicious.

“Thanks,” you said reluctantly as you grabbed your pen. You expected him to leave but he did not move, towering over you in a way that made your stomach twist.

“So, when are you free?” Your brain froze for a second and he felt the need to explain himself. “To study. Unless you want to let me do everything, you’d have the best grade for sure.”

There he was again, the arrogant Jacaerys you were used to seeing. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“No way, I can’t trust a guy to analyse Sylvia Plath.”

To your surprise, Jace let out a chuckle – that was the first time you heard him laugh and as much as you hated admitting it, it was the kind of sound you could not tire of.

“Fair enough,” he admitted. “Could we start working on it after sports class? In the library? It should be almost empty so we won’t be bothered.”

You nodded. “Sure, works for me.”

Jace smiled again. “See you later then,” he said in a joyous tone before returning to his friends. You watched him go for a second. You had not had an interaction this long with him in ages, if it had ever happened at all, and it had gone better than you expected. You observed the way he jokes with his friends, he now seemed a little less arrogant than you thought. Maybe he took your rivalry as a joke while you took it seriously (which was everything but reassuring, did that mean he thought you weren’t a threat?)

“Well,” Heleana’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “he doesn’t seem to hate you.”

You shrugged in a way you hoped was casual and your friend squinted her eyes.

“Do you know what’s curious?” She added, “I think you don’t hate him either.”

II.

One thing that had always annoyed you about Jace was how effortless he always was. He came to every test with unmatched confidence while you had been re-reading your notes compulsively for two hours. He won a match in sports class and still looked fresh as a breeze while you were sweating and panting. It was like you had to make ten times more effort to be at his level, and this made your blood boil.

This was one of your most common points whenever you started complaining about him to Helaena – which you did not do that often, despite having the impression he was always on your mind. That evening, however, as you were getting ready after sports class, you started rambling about your upcoming meeting in the library.

“And it’s so annoying! But you know what?” You asked after reapplying lip gloss. “At least I’ll see that he’s not a hard worker. It will make all of the times I beat him even more satisfying.”

Your best friend hummed distractedly.

“Do you genuinely believe that,” she asked after a little while, “or are you trying to convince yourself?”

You opened your mouth to say something witty but remained speechless in front of her. The girl kept going, unfazed by your reaction.

“Oh, I have to hurry, Aemond is waiting for me to go home. You should probably go at your rendez-vous as well.”

“It’s not a rendez-vous-”

“See you tomorrow !” She sang as she walked away, waving goodbye, her long hair floating behind her.

You grabbed your bag and contemplated the idea your friend had planted in your brain. Were you being unfair to Jace? Was being a good student his only crime, or was he willingly trying to drive you crazy with this tacit competition? You shook your head to stop your train of thoughts and started going towards the library – Jace was probably waiting for you, and you did not want to be late and offer him an opportunity to mock you forever.

Jace was indeed waiting when you entered the library. The late afternoon light bathed the room into a golden atmosphere which made it feel almost magical. You quickly scanned the room and noticed Jace sitting in a corner, typing something on his laptop with a small frown revealing his focus.

You took a deep breath and walked towards him, settling on the other side of the table.

“I hope you didn’t wait for too long,” you started, realising mid-way through the sentence that you actually meant it.

“No problems,” he shook his head. “I’ve just re-read the extract we have to work on, I have a few ideas here and there but I don’t want to make you feel like I forced my analysis upon you.”

“Oh,” you tilted your head to the side, “thank you for that. I’ve thought about the text during class this afternoon and there are a few elements I think we could use.”

“You didn’t have to read the text before?”

You shrugged, feeling a pinch of pride when you noticed the surprise in his eyes.

“I’m gonna read it now, but I have it in mind. ‘It was a queer, sultry summer,’ and all that jazz…”

“Impressive,” he nodded. “So, how do you want to organise the work?”

“I don’t know…” You said slowly, intimidated by the weight of his gaze. You thought it would be harsh, but the curiosity in his eyes was even heavier. If he was rude, you could be a bitch towards him – if he was nice, you had no choice but to match him. “We could both work on our own for a little while and then brainstorm? This way we can come up with different ideas and do the whole ‘cooperating’ part?”

Jace nodded and focused on his computer again while you grabbed your edition of the book – you had rushed home to grab it during your free hour this afternoon – and your pencil case. When you started highlighting your page, you noticed Jace’s widened eyes and chuckled.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re highlighting directly on your book?” He asked and you probed his tone for any trace of sarcasm but found none.

“If I’m studying a book, yes, but I try to be careful. Also, you will never catch me annotating my fancy books.”

“Ooooh, fancy books,” he smiled. “I’d ask you more about it, but we need to get working.”

“Maybe another time?” You asked and Jace nodded before diving into his analysis. Turns out, being nice to him did not require that much effort.

You both kept working for half an hour before you yawned and stretched, catching Jace’s attention.

“You’re done?” He asked and you nodded in response. You turned your book towards Jace who squinted to decipher your hand-writing. After a few seconds, he asked:

“Do you mind if I sit next to you? It’s gonna be more practical.”

“Sure, no problems,” you cleared your side of the table to make space for him.

As he moved next to you, his arm brushed against yours and you quickly removed it, cheeks on fire. The subtle smell of his Cologne lingered around, creating a comfortable and intimate space around you. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down and started comparing your annotations to Jace's.

You hated to admit it, but he had done a great job. His own perception of the extract complemented yours more than it contradicted it, and to your own surprise, you thoroughly enjoyed this exchange. At one point, Jacaerys leaned a little closer to read one of your notes, only to give up and ask you to read it for him.

“Which word?” You stuttered, a bit flustered by the sudden proximity. He was close, close enough for you to notice the freckles on his face – had they always been there? – and it took a second for you to react after he showed you the sentence. “Oh, it’s just that the verb ‘bump’ objectifies her in a way, which echoes her condition as a woman in the fifties, but this also renders an impression of passivity which would fit her dissociated state.”

The boy nodded and promptly added it to his Google doc. “That’s a good idea. Thank you for reading, I couldn’t decipher anything.”

“Do I write this badly?” You said with the sass you usually tried to have when interacting with him. You expected him to answer in the same tone, but he shook his head.

“It’s just that I have this bad tendency not to wear my glasses.”

“Wait, you’re supposed to have glasses?”

The boy looked away. “Proving my point.”

“I’m not gonna ask you why you don’t wear them, it’s none of my business, but don’t you use contact lenses? Do you spend your days behind partially blind?”

“I don’t really like the feeling of lenses,” he admitted. “Honestly, you get used to not seeing a thing.”

You nodded when a realisation hit you. Was this the reason why he always seemed to be glaring at you with squinted eyes? Had you been taking this as a sign of aggression for more than a year when it was just because he couldn’t see properly? You were too shy to ask, not to mention you would probably sound ridiculous and did not want to alter the temporary sympathy that had settled between the two of you, but this single revelation forced you to reconsider your past interactions with the boy.

You kept working a bit distractively, seeing Jacaerys with a fresh perspective and finally admitting to yourself that he was quite handsome. When you both ran out of ideas, your partner closed his laptop and you put your book and pencils back in your bag.

“I think we’re done for today,” he declared.

“Yes, I have lost all of my remaining brain cells,” you joked and took pride in Jace’s chuckle. “Tomorrow same time?”

Jace thought for a second and nodded. “Should be good for me.” You stood up to leave but his hand on your wrist held you back as he said “Wait.” This simple contact sent shivers down your spine. His hand was warm, surprisingly soft, not applying any pressure – not an order, just a suggestion.

You turned around to look at him, hoping you did not look too dazed.

“Maybe we should exchange our numbers,” he started. Your eyes must have widened without you realising because he immediately added, “So we’ll communicate more efficiently.”

“Yes,” you echoed, “communicate more efficiently. That’s what Mrs River wants us to do.”

You gave him your number and he dropped your hand to write it down, leaving your hand suddenly cold, colder than it should be on a mild October day. After this and some more casual small talk, you left the library, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.

Later during that evening, when you were lying on your bed rehashing your afternoon, you got a call from Helaena.

“I wanted to know how it went,” she explained when you answered.

You started debriefing your time with Jacaerys, trying to be as honest as possible. Your best friend listened with great attention, humming sometimes on the other side of the line to let you know she was still there. When you finished your account, she remained quiet for a moment, until you softly called her name – perhaps she had fallen asleep?

Wrong. She was well awake and asked you out of the blue:

“Do you like him?”

“What?” You squeaked. “What do you, he’s been nice for one evening but we’ve spent a year as rivals!” You carefully avoid mentioning your growing suspicion that this rivalry was one-sided. “And I barely know him anyway.”

“There’s a thin line between love and hate,” she ominously answered and you groaned into your pillow. “Well, even if you never become best of friends,” she kept going, “at least he did his work.”

“It’s not like we had a ton of work to do,” you rolled your eyes. Right after finishing your sentence, you felt assailed by guilt. Why did you feel such a need to criticise him when he had been polite, if not friendly towards you?

“Sure,” Helaena sighed on the other line. “You’re funny when you’re like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing. Oh, Mom is calling me, see you tomorrow!” Your best friend hung up so fast you doubted her mother said anything.

You sat up, considering what you were about to do next when a notification caught your attention. You had received a text from an unknown number. You unlocked your phone to delete it without thinking, expecting another scam, but your brain realised at the very last second that this might be relevant.

[unknown number] Hey, it’s Jacaerys, I hope you got home safe. I’m sending you the link to my google doc, I wrote down all of our ideas and I’ve started organising it a bit. I also threw a few possible theses, feel free to add other ideas! See you tomorrow!

You clicked on the link and gasped when you saw the fantastic work he had done. It was all neat, easy to understand, and his possible lines of argument were more than relevant. You hastened to answer.

[You] Wow, this is amazing, thank you so much for this work, how long did it take you? I don’t want to give the impression I’m slacking off. It’s really really great! See you tomorrow!

[Jacaerys] Thank you, it didn’t take me that long and don’t worry, if there’s one person I wouldn’t think slacks off, it’d be you

[You] Thanks again Jacaerys!

[Jacaerys] Come on, you can call me Jace

III.

You arrived at the library slightly before the time you and Jace had agreed on. The rain was pouring against the windows forming a soothing melody and the dark sky created a sombre, tense atmosphere which delighted you. You thought you’d have the opportunity to pick a table near the windows, yet you heard someone call your name softly. Turning around, you saw Jace waving in a more secluded part of the room.

You rolled your eyes and walked towards him. You were early and yet he was already there, leading you to seriously think he only cared about school. Perhaps he was the ghost of a student condemned to haunt the hallways forever, sometimes finding a victim to bother with his excellent grades and beautiful smile. At least that’d explain his work ethic and general knowledge, much easier to acquire after spending years in school.

He removed his bag from the chair next to him to invite you to sit there and you tried to ignore your increasing heartbeat as you settled down.

“How are you?” He asked after greeting you.

“Just another day,” you answered. “And you?”

After a brief small talk, you went back to your analysis. Your goal today was to define your line of argument and your thesis, after which you could both pick which parts to write and explain in front of the class. As you expected, the kind of intellectual chemistry that you had discovered yesterday was still there to the point your conversation digressed several times.

Nevertheless, you managed to work efficiently until the screen of Jace’s phone lit up.

“Wait I have a call, I’ll be right back,” he whispered. You gave him a thumbs up to let him know it was fine and he left the room taking long strides. You used this break to stretch and then decided to update Jace’s not on his computer, in return for the unexpected work he had done the day before. Without thinking, you went to the bottom of the page and added a small note.

“I’m starting to think that people are right when they say great minds think alike ;)”

You had barely finished typing that Jace entered the room again, and you hastily moved back to the top of the page. You felt a little silly, behaving like a teenage girl; fiddling with your hair trying to look as innocent as possible. By good luck, Jace did not notice your suspicious attitude and just shot you an apologetic look.

“I’m really sorry but I have to go early,” he explained. “My step-sister was supposed to bring our little brother home from daycare but she doesn’t have a car and it’s raining too hard for her to walk him home, so I’m gonna pick him up.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I think we’re good to go anyway, and we can text if we have another idea. I’m gonna walk home as well.”

You started putting your stuff away but interrupted your action when you felt Jace’s stare. You raised your head, tilting it in a silent interrogation.

“You’re gonna walk under this torrential rain?”

You chuckled. “It’s fine Jace, I have my umbrella.”

The boy shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest in a way that made it hard not to look at his muscles beneath his shirt. “I can give you a ride.”

“It’s okay, really-”

“What if you catch pneumonia and miss the presentation?”

You looked at the boy, astounded, before sighing. Of course, he was motivated by school. How dare you believe – or rather hope – that he had your best interest in mind.

“Nothing I can say will change your mind…” You guessed.

“How clever. Just tell me where I can drop you.”

As you sat inside his car, you tried to swallow your bitterness. Even if his action was not selfless, you were still grateful he had made that offer. You had to walk for at least twenty minutes to get home, and your old umbrella would not have been a great help against the gusts of wind that flooded the pavement.

As you buckled up, you tried to initiate a conversation that was unrelated to your assignment, the silence too awkward for you to sit in.

“So…” you started, “I didn’t know you had siblings.”

Jace chuckled. “My family’s a little messy.”

“Really?” You turned your head to look at him and found yourself in awe of his side profile. He must have felt your gaze because he quickly glanced at you and you looked away, cheeks heating up, like a toddler caught red-handed.

“My mother had me and my two younger brothers, and then she married my step-father who already had two daughters, and together they had two more boys.”

“Wow,” was all you found to say at the moment. “That’s a lot. I guess it means the house is never quiet.”

“You can say that, yes.” He hesitated. “I love them all, really, they’re great, but sometimes it gets…”

“Overwhelming?”

“A bit.” He nodded. “And it comes with a lot of unexpected events, like this one.”

“It’s still sweet,” you commented, “that you did not hesitate a second.”

Jace chuckled. “I was not gonna let Rhaena get drenched or Aegon wait in daycare.”

“Some would have.”

Jace opened his mouth to say something, sighed, and closed his mouth, which amused you.

“What were you going to say?” You asked.

The boy shot you a surprised look.

“I really have to be careful, you’re observant.” Your eyes fell to your lap and you bit your lip. “But I was just gonna argue that my attitude should be the standard, though you complimenting me is such a rare event, I changed my mind.”

You snorted. “Now you’re gonna make me feel bad.” You left a pause. “If you’re so desperate for praise, then listen: I frankly admire how you seem to care about your family and still find the time to be on top of almost all of our classes. Almost.”

You saw a lopsided smile appear on his face and smirked.

“Almost, yes, I get it,” he answered. “I still have to beat you in history, but I promise my next essay will blow the teacher’s mind.” You both laughed. “You’re right though, I’m busy. I try to spend time with my siblings – partly to alleviate a bit my mom and step-father work, but I also want to hang out with my friends and everything.”

You groaned. “How do you juggle with all of this? You must have a secret. Can you freeze time of something?”

“Trust me I wish. And you, do you have any siblings?”

The conversation kept going and you felt increasingly relaxed. His car was comfortable, the sound of the rain was lulling you, and Jace turned out to be a conversationalist. He asked questions with a genuine interest and his own anecdotes were memorable. You felt like you knew him better after this fifteen minutes drive than after a year and a half in the same class. When you reached your house, you regretted living so close from your school. You did not want the discussion to end and would have done anything to stay a little longer.

You opened the door, the cool air outside slapping your face, harsh contrast with the warmth that had settled in the vehicle.

“Thanks again,” you smiled and Jace smiled in return, this simple thing brightening up the passenger compartment.

“No problems. It was nice chatting with you.”

“It was.” You kept looking into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before snapping out of your trance. “You should not keep your brother waiting for any longer.”

“You’re right.”

You closed the door and ran towards the porch of the house, carefully avoiding falling onto the slippery pavement. Once sheltered, you turned towards the road and waved at Jace who waved back before starting the car again. You watched the vehicle disappear in the fog that had fallen on the city.

You remained distracted for the whole evening, listening absentmindedly to your family during dinner, but it was only when your back hit your bed that you realised you were looking forward to your next work session with Jace.

IV.

You took a deep breath and read your notes yet another time.

“I’m starting to think my part is terrible.” You moaned. “I’m dragging your work down.”

Jacaerys, sat next to you in the library, whispered your name.

“You’re fine,” he told you. “Really, I’ve read your part, you’ve read mine, we both did a great job and we’re gonna earn a great grade.”

You sighed. “How do you know?”

“Because,” Jace closed his laptop, “I see you freak out in the hallway before every exam, and yet you always get good grades.”

You gave him a soft smile, touched by his attempt at comforting you, but this smile faltered when you realised what he had implied.

“Wait, how often are you observing me for you to say that?”

“You’re pacing back and forth, it’s hard not to notice you,” he answered quickly, on the defensive, and with a confidence that did not manage to hide the blush that was spreading across his face.

You held his gaze back for a second, feeling irresistibly drawn to him. He was close, close enough for you to admire the details of his face, his long lashes, his freckles, all of the small features you had failed to notice for so long. He was staring back, a glimmer in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher but that made your heart do a somersault, and for a second you thought that perhaps something could happen when someone dropped a book in the library and you jerked away from him.

“I,” you stuttered. “I need to use the bathroom. I don’t want to be bothered during our presentation.”

Jace squinted, frowned for a second, and nodded. “Sure, no problems.”

You almost ran outside of the room, feeling your cheeks growing hot. The stress was driving you crazy, making you act in a way that was not who you were supposed to be. Sure, Jace had been nice to you for a week. He was funny and seemed to be a good person. And he was incredibly handsome, of course. But since when were your standards so low that you had a crush on a guy just for those reasons?

You opened the door of the bathroom which was empty for once. You didn’t even need to use it, but you could use a little calm. There was something about the buzzing of the neon lights that was strangely soothing. You splashed some cold water on your face, feeling your heartbeat calm down, but the sudden opening of the door startled you.

“Oops, sorry,” the newcomer said, and you turned around when you recognised her voice.

“Helaena?”

“That’s me,” she approached to greet you. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your presentation?”

You nodded, feeling the lump in your throat swelling. Your best friend tilted her head to the side, her hair falling from her shoulder like beams of moonlight. Her periwinkle eyes scanned you and she grabbed your hands. “Oh, you’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

You nodded again, the softness in her voice making your eyes wet.

“Did it go that badly? Was Jace rude or anything?”

“No,” you immediately corrected her. “He did a great job and he turned out to be… nicer than I expected. I’m just,” you exhaled. “I’m just stressed. You know what it is.”

“And did you tell him?”

“Not directly. He definitely noticed I was stressed out, although I tried to remain as composed as possible in front of him.”

A brief smile appeared on Helaena’s face, like lightning in the middle of the night.

“Maybe that’s why you’re in such a state, you let everything build up and it just got overwhelming.”

You bit your lip. Your best friend definitely had a point, but you had forgotten to mention the brief moment of tension that had contributed to your overall panic.

“Yeah,” you eventually admitted. “I guess I tried to be… cool? In front of him, I mean. It’s a bit silly.”

“Hum,” Helaena gave you a suspicious look you did not appreciate. “Why so?”

You shrugged, leaning against the cold sink. “I guess because he’s nice I don’t want to look like a loser. Don’t look at me like that,” you stopped your friend before she could say a word. “Maybe our rivalry was one-sided, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna be buddies and everything. I won’t be surprised if he stops talking to me the moment the assignment is done.”

“I don’t understand why he’d do that. From what you told me, you seemed to get along pretty well.”

“He’s popular,” you sighed, exasperated. “He gets along pretty well with everyone, doesn’t mean those connections are meaningful and lasting.”

Helaena crossed her arms over her chest. “Yet you wish yours could be?”

You hesitated a second. “Well, I think we could be friends, yes.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on your friend’s face. “I think so too.” She got closer to give you a side hug. “Are you feeling a little better?”

“I guess so? Talking to you usually has this effect.”

Helaena cooed. “You’re flattering me. Now get back there and show everyone how great of a student you are. And,” she called your name softly, “don’t pretend with him. You’re my coolest friend, if he doesn’t see it, it’s his loss. Although I do think he sees it.”

You pressed your lips into a thin smile. “Thank you Helaena.”

“You’re welcome,” she blew you a kiss and you left the bathroom feeling more at peace than you were when you entered. Being able to talk freely had taken a weight off your shoulders – though you felt a bit guilty for the moment you had avoided mentioning. You still needed to think about it once you had some peace and quiet, probably sleep on it and see if it was the product of your stress or a sign of something rooted more deeply.

When you sat next to Jace again, the first thing you noticed was the worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He immediately asked and you nodded with all of your energy to reassure him.

“Don’t worry. There was just a line.”

He accepted your lie without asking any questions. You went to grab your notes but he stopped you mid-action.

“I think you’re good. I’ve heard you rehearse and you knew your subject. Reading it again is just gonna stress you out.”

You sighed. “You’re probably right. I think my brain cannot absorb any information right now.” You checked the time on your phone. “We still have twenty minutes before class begins, what do you want to do?”

“Well, right now I would mind a coffee. Can I pay you a drink?”

“The coffee machine has been repaired?”

“I have no idea,” Jace chuckled and stood up. “But I’m willing to find out. So,” he landed you a hand, “wanna come?”

You looked at his hand; the infinity of possibilities it represented, and tried to repress the butterflies in your stomach as you seized it.

˖ ࣪⭑

When Mrs River called your and Jace’s names, you walked towards the front of the class with the excitement of an inmate before their last meal. You made sure to take deep breaths to avoid getting into another panic attack, and Jace must have noticed this because he quickly squeezed your shaky hand with a smile. You swallowed your stress and smiled back before turning towards the class.

Your presentation went well. The hours spent working had created a familiarity with the book and made your analysis all the more convincing. You managed to stop reading your notes as the sentences you had carefully written flew into your mind. You echoed and referred to some of Jace’s arguments, showing the teacher that you had worked together and collaborated just as she had required. When she commented on your assignment at the end, she did not spare you but there was a slight smile on her face that was rare enough for you to take pride in it.

When she finally let you rejoin your seats, you did not waste a second and rushed towards your chair, dropping your notes on the table and sighing all of the pressure away. You glanced at Jace who gave you a thumbs up from the other side of the room and you mirrored him before shifting your focus to the pair that was about to speak.

After two or three more presentations, Helaena nudged you gently to catch your attention. You turned your head towards her and noticed she was pointing at your notes. You frowned, not understanding what she meant, and your gaze dropped to the Bristol card. There was a note at the very bottom; written with a pencil, small and neat compared to your highlighted and crossed-out notes.

Only two people could have written it; Helaena or Jace. Your best friend could have easily stolen your notes while you were busy listening to your classmates, while Jace had been alone with your notes for several minutes when you were in the bathroom. It made more sense for Helaena to write it, you two often communicated this way during class if you wanted to remain discrete, but her pencil case was closed.

Rather than keep on speculating this way, you grabbed your notes and read the text. You had to squint to decipher it; whoever had written had put as little pressure on their pencil as possible. Still, you managed to read word by word that one sentence that set your heart ablaze.

“still wanna study with me in the library sometimes?”

V.

You had a crush on Jace. That was it, such a simple sentence that still had been torturing you for almost a whole month. The rainy and orange October days had made way for a dry, chilly and brown November that seemed to match your mood.

You had truly hoped that the wave of joy Jace had ignited in you, that the butterflies and the fluster were all temporary. Yet, you had been forced to admit to an unimpressed Helaena that your feelings were getting stronger and stronger each time you joined him in the library to study and chat, and that terrified you.

You did not properly talk outside of class, he’d sometimes send you a message about something you might find interesting, and you’d do the same, but your exchanges had not gotten any more intimate for better or for worse. You wished you could spend more time by his side, maybe recreate this one scene before the presentation which had not left your thoughts since; but you were scared that your lovesickness would show through your giggles, freak him out and permanently damage your blossoming friendship.

“It’s never going to be reciprocal,” you had moaned to Helaena during the sleepover when you finally talked about your crush.

The girl had immediately refuted this statement, reminding you that you were a smart, beautiful, nice and funny young woman, but none of these qualities seemed enough at the moment. Jace could have easily seduced any girl – or boy – in your class so why would he settle for you?

You were convinced he saw you as a friend with whom he still shared a sort of rivalry; rivalry which had become way more light-hearted than before; perhaps you had a special status, but it would never be that special. Everything you learned about the boy made you want him a little more – the complicated relationship he had with father figures, his love for pets and their names or the importance of his friendship with Cregan.

Cregan had become friends with Helaena over the assignment and you both discovered the advantages that came with your newly found “popularity”. People had stopped picking on your best friend and even started to admire her knowledge of insects, considering it a quirk and not a sign of madness, while you got invited to many social events, though you declined most of them (partly because Helaena was not going to parties, and you weren’t going without her).

This time, however, your best friend had convinced you to go to Cregan’s house party. She believed it was a great occasion to see Jace in an informal setting and perhaps get closer to him. You thought the idea was a little silly, but gave in to Helaena’s convincing arguments and the promise that she’d braid your hair with one of those complex hairstyles you admired so much.

When you were getting ready, you thought this party could actually be fun. You wanted to look pretty, neat and tidy, but not too neat and tidy so people would think you had spent hours getting ready – which was in fact the case. To look casual, but not too casual, when in fact even the strands of hair that escaped for your braid had been carefully styled to frame your face in the most flattering way possible. You had put on music, laughed with your friend, and considered this might be the funniest part of the evening.

You were now convinced it was the funniest part. In the middle of the house, surrounded by people you had never really talked to, you felt silly with your strands of hair and your lip gloss. The alcohol in your drink tasted bitter, but you didn’t know where you could get rid of it without being seen. You weren’t drunk enough to put your anxiety aside and go talk to people, but you weren’t sure you’d be sober enough to leave the party and drive home. You probably could have joined Cregan, who was a friendly acquaintance and could have helped you join conversations, but you were scared of being a burden to him.

Your best option now seemed to sober up until you could go home and find the comfort of your bed. You sought the cold hair of the night, even if it was harsh and slapping your cheeks, for it helped you come to your senses. Cregan’s parents had a luxurious garden but it was now filled with drunk classmates and was the last place you wanted to visit. However, you had noticed at your arrival that there were a few balconies. If you were correct, they were linked to the bedrooms and so you began wandering inside the house to find access outside.

The house did not seem so big during the day, but now that you were alone and using your phone as a flashlight to avoid raising suspicions, it seemed like a castle or worse, a labyrinth. After a few minutes of walking in the dark, hearing and feeling the bass of the amps through the walls, you finally found an empty bedroom with a glass door opening onto the balcony you were dreaming of.

You leaned against the fence, filling your lungs with the cold air of the night that got your blood pumping. Your breath came out with a small puff of steam. The music and voices seemed so far away, indistinguishable buzzing at the back of your mind. You took in the sight of the city by night, the lights of the buildings from afar with the occasional blue and red siren. It was lively, chaotic, and yet at this moment, formed an oasis of peace.

“Are you hiding?”

Jace’s voice coming from behind startled you. You turned around, pressing your hand against your panicked heart. Too lost in your daydream, you had not heard him coming.

“You almost gave me a heart-attack!”

Jace chuckled, taking a step closer. Bathed in moonlight, he seemed to be an ethereal being. His features appeared softer with the pale light, yet his eyes seemed as bright as ever. He was not taking his eyes off you, but it did not give you the feeling of being ogled.

“Sorry about that. At least I can say I set your heart racing.”

Perhaps the little alcohol in your blood was finally having an effect, but you felt bolder all of a sudden. In a normal setting, you probably would have looked away, cleared your throat and changed the subject, but this time you found the strength to maintain eye contact.

“You’d like that?”

The boy seemed taken aback for a second, then amusement shined in his eyes and a smile spread on his lips.

“Maybe,” he murmured and took a sip from his drink. “You didn’t answer my initial question though.”

“I’m not hiding, I’m just taking a break.”

“Sounds like hiding to me.” He leaned by your side. “Overwhelmed?”

You nodded. “I’m not really friends with anyone here so it’s a bit awkward.”

Jace nodded in return. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you here. In a good way, I mean.”

You couldn’t mask the smile on your face. “I’d hope so. Were you really that surprised?”

Jace tilted his head to the side. “Honestly yes.”

“Why so?”

“I never really pictured you in this environment. You always seemed too… I don’t know, serious? You don’t exactly remind me of party girls.”

This sentence was like a cold shower. The alcohol had reinforced your emotions that came in waves crashing against the cliffs and leaving the beach destroyed once the tide had receded.

“You never stopped thinking I’m a goodie-two-shoes, did you?” You whispered without even realising it.

“What?”

Perhaps it was the fog that invaded your brain, perhaps it was disillusionment, perhaps it was an insecurity Jace had triggered, but your mouth slurred words out without giving you any chance to control them.

“I remember you calling me a goodie-two-shoes to your friends and although it was hurtful, I thought it was your loss if you didn’t know me, but I honestly thought you had moved on from those preconceived ideas.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Jace frowned. “Is that why you’ve been giving me dirty looks since last year? Just for this?”

“What do you mean ‘just for this’?” Your voice took a desperate tone.

“It was just a joke, I didn’t even know you were listening to me. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You wouldn’t have said it, okay, that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have thought it.”

“I said it like, one year ago, and you’ve remained hostile until our English assignment! For just one sentence?”

“Breaking news, words have consequences! When you say something super condescending and unfair, people are bitter, can’t believe it took you this long to learn that.”

Jacaerys sighed. He seemed more irritated than actually angry, and he closed his eyes to regain composure.

“Look, I’m sorry if what I said hurt you to the point you shoot daggers at me for a whole year afterwards. I didn’t think the term “goodie-two-shoes” was that hurtful, you make it sound like it’s a slur.”

“You really sound like a popular guy who has never been picked on in his life before you know?”

Your anger, or whatever it was, had decreased and now you were left with a hollow within your chest. You had really hoped for a minute, when he had flirted with you between the lines, that something might have been blossoming between the two; yet this single conversation felt like you were back to your relationship before the assignment, with your bitterness towards him. In a way, you just wanted him to truly apologise, forgive him and move on. Perhaps that was what had been stopping you from trying anything with him.

Jacaerys was looking at you and you were avoiding his gaze. Only the sounds of the city and the music were breaking the silence. Then out of the blue, you felt Jace’s hand on your shoulder, the warmth of his skin shielding you against the biting cold.

“I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories. Really. In my mind, it wasn’t that bad of a term,” he started explaining. “You were just so serious and nerdy, and I wanted to impress my friends. My goal was not to insult you whatsoever.”

You sighed. “We all are victims of peer pressure, aren’t we?” You marked a pause. “At least we cleared that out.”

“I don’t have any problem with people who are goodie-two-shoes, by the way. I like serious and nerdish girls.”

You jerked your head towards him only to see a smug smile on his face. As much as you wanted to remain a bit distant – just to teach him – you could help to find him irresistibly attractive and his smile was so contagious, you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Really? Do you have any other criteria?” You matched his flirty tone and turned your entire body to face him. That evening had been a roller coaster but if it could settle on this atmosphere, then maybe it had all been worth it.

“Is it too on the nose if I say I like girls who braid their hair? Especially considering it’s not your usual hairstyle.”

You couldn’t help but fiddle with your hair. “Helaena did it. So I assume you like it?”

“I do. It’s fancy, and it prevents strands of hair from hiding your face. This happens way too often and it’s a shame.”

As he said this sentence, he fixed a strand of hair that had managed to escape the intricate pattern of your braid. His hand brushed against your cheek and you melted in the contact as a shiver ran down your spine, which Jace noticed.

“Do you want to go back inside? It’s freezing out there.” He must have seen your hesitation because he took a step closer and immediately added, “I’m not letting you go.”

Beneath the gentleness of his promise, you recognised the distinctive sparkle of desire in his eyes and it set you ablaze. You went to reach for his hand which he let you do without resistance. If anything, he even got a little closer, to the point where your noses were almost touching.

You’re not even sure who closed the distance between you two. One second, you were scanning his eyes for the smallest sign he was about to pull back and reject you. The next second, his lips were on yours, warm and bitter from the alcohol and his hands fell possessively on your waist. All of a sudden he was everywhere, overwhelming your senses, and you would have spent a lifetime against his lips.

A giggle escaped your lips when you broke the kiss – or perhaps he broke it? You weren’t too sure anymore, this kiss had been more intoxicating than the alcohol at the party. Jace brought you a little closer, smiling from ear to ear.

You got on tiptoes and whispered: “Do you really care about the party?”

Jace’s smile grew devilish as he led you inside.

+ 1.

Sneaking Jace into your house had been fun and exciting – you had both agreed that it was a much better idea than to sneak inside his house with all of his siblings. You had chuckled on the way and blessed the fact that your parent’s bedroom was on the opposite side as yours.

The things that had ensued were exactly what you had been expecting when Jace led you through the house to get to his car – after swearing he was sober enough to drive. Actually no, they had surpassed your expectations. He had been soft, and unrelenting, and had sent you over the edge.

However, one thing that was not a part of the plans you had made while observing Jace’s perfect side profile during the ride home was how much you would talk.

You have no idea how long you remained in his arms, your back against his chest, talking. You felt safe and comforted in his embrace, the darkness and the stillness of the bedroom making it ideal for late-night confessions. You had talked about everything, from school to your friends, your insecurities and your dreams and everything that crossed your mind. You had even brought back this debate over the best Greek romance, speaking about it in an appeased way until sunlight poked through the windows.

You both fell asleep when the sun began rising in the sky, still cuddling – it was like you were made for this, your bodies fitting perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. When you opened your eyes again, the room was filled with light. You freaked out for a second when you felt hands around your waist, but memories from last night assailed your mind and you calmed down, matching Jace’s serene heartbeat.

He woke up not long after, greeting you with an endearing awkwardness, and you did your best to make him feel comfortable. Fortunately, your parents had already left – it was common for them to work on the weekends, leaving you alone in the house – and you cooked breakfast together. This little moment of domesticity left you longing for more, more quick glances, more arms brushing against the other, more lopsided smiles.

Still, the tension, barely perceptible, had not entirely left as you enjoyed your meal. Conversations went smoothly, jumping from one subject to the other without a significant gap, yet none of them mentioned the elephant in the room – what had happened between you two and more importantly, what you were going to do next.

Things did look better in the morning, and it was clear now that was you felt towards Jace was more than simple attraction. You liked him, if not more, and the idea of being in an official relationship was tempting. Asking him, though, was out of the question. You could handle being a one-time thing with him, but you’d forever regret scaring him off with your desire for commitment. No matter how hard you tried to scan him and his body language, you could not read his feelings and were left wandering, a soft torture made out of knife-winged butterflies.

You told Jace he could take a shower and used this time to text Helaena and ask her for advice, rushing to your phone and typing as fast as possible, relying on your friend to decipher your typos. The sound of the water running stopped after a few minutes and you couldn’t help your thoughts from drifting to the boy, and how he must look like covered in water. With the darkness of the night, you had only caught a glimpse of his body yet you knew that it was a sight you could not tired of.

You chatted for a few more minutes, standing in front of each other several feet apart, like a glass window was separating you. You wanted to offer him to stay for the afternoon, maybe watch a film, but Jace had told you he was going to go before.

Reluctantly, you had accompanied him to your front door. You had lost all hope that he might want something more. If that was the case, he would have said something already, wouldn’t he? Yet there was a longing in his eyes as you looked at each other on the threshold, an intensity you could only assimilate to your own.

You were about to close the door when he said your name softly, like a prayer. You interrupted your motion, looking back at him.

“Yes?” You answered in the same tone.

“It’s just…” He hesitated. I doubt you’re interested but if you ever wanna go out with me as a date and not just a hang-out…”

“Jace,” you interrupted him. “Do you think I’m not interested in you? And there I thought I acted like a lovesick teenager whenever I was around you,” a nervous laugh escaped your throat. “I would be more than happy to go out with you.”

You saw tension disappear from Jace’s body in a subtle manner, the unclenching of his jaw, the small sigh that left his lips. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now, I can’t believe I lost that much time,” he confessed.

You took a step towards him to place your hand on his forearm. “It’s okay. I also believed you weren’t interested in me.”

“Great minds think alike, right?” He winked, quoting the sentence you had left on his Google doc, and the memory of this foolish action flustered you.

“Apparently so.”

“I’d like to take you on a date, soon. Call me old-fashioned, but I meant to do things well, not cutting corners. What happened yesterday was unexpected. Welcomed, but unexpected.”

You giggled. “Then I’m free tomorrow, gentleman.”

“I’ll pick you up at two?”

“Sounds great. See you tomorrow” You smiled at him and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before closing the door with a cheesy smile on your lips that matched Jace’s.

You wandered in the empty house for a few minutes on cloud nine until your phone buzzed in your pocket. You grabbed it absentmindedly and your smile widened when you read the message you had received.

[Jace] See you tomorrow princess

taglist: @housetargaryenloyalist @v3lary0ns @vee-mage @cregnstark @eldrith @benjinotes @divinesolas @astrxq

[valyrfia]

*insert michael jackson gif*

Let it go with the excuses already, today was on him he couldn't even beat his teammate today how you people expect him to fight max?he will put it in the wall in the last lap, oh wait it already happened, my bad

also max recommended devries lol let's not take those guys words , charles is currently fighting fraud allegations, unless his 2019 or 2022 start is coming it's only going downhill

Okay, fine, I'll bite. Let's compare Charles's and Carlos's perfomances in order to try and determine with as little bias as possible.

In order to constrain our parameters of our investigation to their current abilities as drivers, let's take the our period of investigation to be the whole of the 2023 season, plus the first three races of the 2024 season. We'll exclude the following races for Carlos due to circumstances beyond his control: Qatar 2023 (fuel leak leading to DNS), Las Vegas 2023 (10 place grid penalty due to track not being properly maintained), Jeddah 2024 (appendicitis). Likewise, we'll exclude the following races for Charles due to circumstances beyond his control: Bahrain 2023 (DNF due to technical issues), Jeddah 2023 (10 place grid penalty due to exceeding allowed quota), COTA 2023 (DSQ), Brazil (DNS due to faulty hydraulics).

There are cases to be made for other races for both of them, but these are races where they were either involved in a collision leading to a DNF or where grid penalties apply, so there's argument for driver error there. With regard to grid penalties, we're going to go by the final decisions made by the stewards regardless of whether the penalties were appealed or not. Races where they suffered technical issues in race but they still finished are not counted, as it shows a driver's ability to handle an unpredictable car.

Before we discount the races listed above entirely, let's have a look at where the driver who didn't have difficulties finished.

So we're discarding pretty much the same number of points between them, so I feel happy discarding the following 7 races entirely from this analysis: Bahrain 2023, Jeddah 2023, Qatar 2023, COTA 2023, Brazil 2023, Las Vegas 2024, Jeddah 2024. Furthermore, in Las Vegas, Carlos finished 6th and in Jeddah, Charles finished 7th. This brings their points total across the discarded races to 46 for Carlos, 45 for Charles. However, Charles managed to score those points over fewer points-scoring races, and with a higher average finishing position, so for the sake of not convoluting ourselves we'll call it even and commit to just examining the points and stats of the remaining races not excluded from our investigation. The table below shows those stats. For simplification, sprints are not considered.

So I think there are a few key things we want to consider: overall performance, reasons for retirements and driver reliability over our chosen time period. So we'll go one by one for each and examine in a little more depth.

For overall performance, it's easiest to see in a quick head to head. Carlos wins in race wins, Charles wins in poles, they tie in number of retirements (although Carlos was classified in ABU23 due to finishing 90% of the race distance), Charles wins in higher average finishing position, Charles wins in higher points total.

Next, we move on to reasons for retirement. Charles retired twice, once upon collision with Lance in Australia 23, and once in Zandvoort due to a damaged floor. Carlos retired once in Belgium 23 due to a collision with Oscar Piastri and once in Abu Dhabi 23 due to being lapped and running last without pitting.

For driver reliability, I want to consider the variance in Charles and Carlos's race finishes for reliability. A quick recap for the non-STEM people who may be reading this: the variance measures the spread of numbers in a dataset, and how far away they are from the dataset's mean. Thus, a smaller variance indicates less spread in positions that a driver has finished in, in turn indicating higher reliability. Charles has a variance of 6.46, Carlos has a variance of 8.25. It is therefore possible to conclude that Charles is the more reliable driver of the two. While on the subject of reliability, it is also worth noting that Charles has not dropped outside the top 5 since Monza last year.

So overall, anon, I'm afraid I have to reject your notion that Charles is washed or even approaching becoming washed. The data show otherwise. The only category where Carlos is superior to Charles in our time frame is race wins, race wins where Charles deliberately adhered to Ferrari strategy in order to help Carlos, and Max Verstappen was out of commission for the win for one reason or another. Carlos wins in luck, but for driver reliability, points scored, finishing position, Charles is the clear winner and the numbers show it.

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

You all have cast your votes and I have received multiple requests for this analysis so come get your present…the wait is finally over!!!

Disclaimer: This analysis is for delusional purposes only. Think about it. Write about it. Have hard thoughts, don’t take it too seriously. 18+

I am using traditional astrology and I am interpreting Lee Know’s house placements as if he is a Gemini Rising, it’s unconfirmed if that is his Rising Sign but it most likely is. 

Word Count: 930

I'm in love with you and all these little things...

Lee Know as a boyfriend is the type who’s heart burns brightly but his love shines quietly and his patient and ‘slow-burn’ approach to love is what makes him a beautiful partner for someone who is a late bloomer. 

There wouldn’t be a lavish outburst of love and affection but instead he loves with his presence, that’s the beautiful part about having a Scorpio Venus is when they love you, you can feel that enduring love and presence by simply having him next to you. 

When you’re sitting next to him on the couch…you’ll feel his love…when you’re in public and he lightly touches your wrist…you’ll feel his love…when he’s spooning you in the early hours of the morning…you’re going to feel his love. 

And when I say Lee Know has a ‘slow-burn’ approach to love…I mean it’s a SLOW-BURN approach and he’d be the type to yearn for you for months before even offering a hint of affection because his Scorpio Mercury makes him prone to over-thinking and over-analysing all your interactions with him. 

He’s the type to ask you out by stating along the lines of…’I have liked you for a long time now and I’ve been trying to show you but you haven’t figured it out and so now I need to tell you’...to which you’d probably say ‘You like me? I thought you were just being friendly’ to which he’d probably say…’I have been trying to flirt with you for the past year now’. 

Lee Know masks very well so he’ll probably come off as cool and collected when deep down, he’s all jittery and nervous with excitement because he has thought of every possible outcome of how this situation could end. 

(I’m playing Spotify and Little Things by One Direction just started playing and it’s perfect because it’s so Lee Know coded- it really is the little things with him). 

When you tell him you don’t have much experience or have never been in a relationship, he won’t be discouraged but instead will cherish the connection more because his Sagittarius Moon means he values honesty and transparency.

You have felt that he is important and caring enough to reveal this information too so therefore he'll do his best to keep reassuring you that yes, he is the right person and you made the right decision by allowing him to be your first.

The relationship would start off with timid acts of reassurance like sending you messages asking if you've eaten dinner or sending you pics of the meal he's made.

And then...maybe a month later he'll invite you to stay over in his apartment and you'll take the bed while he sleeps on the couch because Lee Know understands you have to learn to trust him, you have to learn to get used to his presence.

Lee Know's control issues indicate he doesn't like being startled so physical affection will be on his terms, he'll want to initiate the first kiss or the first make-out session because his Virgo Mars means EVERYTHING has to be perfect for the moment.

A service dom (he's a switch technically but heavy dominant preference) to the MAX!!! and a lover of body worship...

He might not be the type to gush and fawn but he'll make sure the bedroom is littered with your favourite candle that you absent-mindedly mentioned to him a few months prior that he remembered.

The corruption kink would then slowly creep it's way into Lee Know's affections for you because he can't help but get off on the idea that it's HIS hands, HIS mouth and HIS words that are marking your soul and that even if the relationship doesn't last...there's a piece of your soul that belongs to HIM, an experience you can't share with anyone else.

'Aww kitten, you're so sensitive...no one has touched you this way before? Then let's keep this all for me then'.

And once you're physically intimate with each other, then that's when Lee Know's obsessive, possessive and jealous traits might pop out because in his mind, he taught you the ways of pleasure...so why would you share that with someone else?

He moulded you for him.

'Oh kitten, you want to go out and find someone else? Then you'll have to learn all over again and you've only just started'.

Lee Know is just as passionate a lover as Bang Chan but it's more expressed through actions which is why sex is an important love language for him as well.

With his Moon in the 7th House, it would be one of the few times where he could drop the mask and just reveal all his pent-up feelings towards you.

It's why I don't view Lee Know as hard dom/sadist material at all because sex would be a way of exploring feelings that he simply just can't verbalise on a regular basis.

When he's inside of you, when he feels the heat of you on his skin and he can see the trust in your glazed eyes and see your skin shivering from his touch...he would just be filled with overwhelming gratitude that it's HIM and only HIM to see you in such a vulnerable state.

And he'd wrap his arms around you, kiss your forehead and gaze lovingly into your eyes as he shows you the REAL Lee Know.

'My sweet kitten, you're the only one for me...I'm the first so I have to be the last...I have too...because there's no else for me but you, there will never be anyone else but you'.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has supported me and I have gratitude and care for all my moots and followers! Thank you for your motivation and your support, I am proud of you all and I hope you have a safe and amazing New Year!!!

Taglist: @creativechaoticloner @hipster-shiz @scuzmunkie @cherry-0420 @stardragongalaxy @berryberrytan @lyramundana @craxy-person @krishastumblernow @mykryptonitelight @ddeonghwassimp @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @whatsk-poppinhomies @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @hexheathen @northerngalxy @ja3hwa @michel-angelhoe @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell

[gatheredfates]

Poses. Hello! 💫

I'm doing something both extremely regular and very on point for me, but also new in the grand scheme of things. Normally this single-word drive would be done as a flash prompt and be for fics only. However, with Dawntrail coming up and me taking a break from my longer asks until well after the expansion's launch, I wanted to extend the life of my single word drive and allow people to engage in creative mediums beyond writing; aka, gpose, art, meta analysis — whatever makes you happy and engaged creatively with Final Fantasy XIV!

To that end, please consider this a single-word (anything) drive!

...Okay, but what is a single-word (anything) drive?

By liking/reblogging this post, you consent for me to go into your askbox to send a one-word prompt generated from this website, picked from a selection of five, as a prompt for you do something creative with your oc. I will then queue any and all completed works to my character question tag, which can be found here.

There is no word limit or time limit, no barrier for skill, and you are welcome to ask for another prompt if the original one doesn't vibe. This is all about giving you the opportunity to explore a concept or part of your character you might not have considered, or expand upon your artistic/technical ability.

As this is a longer drive than my flash ones, I will be advertising it accordingly, and will send multiple prompts for those who'd like them. If you have finished an ask and would like another, please reply to this post with an emoji of a sea creature. 🐋 You can do this as many times as you want until the end of the drive; it counts as an extra like/reblog!

Sea, when does the drive end? I'm glad you asked! It'll end when (Count)Down To Dawntrail starts or when I manually call it — whichever comes first. It'll be announced on this post, but feel free to join my community project discord over at SEAFLOOR where you'll see (ha) me announce it in real time.

That's all for now! I'll either update or reblog this post with more information as needed, so please check the notes of this post for any updates.

[windvexer]

What counts as a spell? Is intent all you need or do you have to do something before to get it all juicy and stuff.

Hi Anon! What a fun question, because there is no answer except this CAN OF WORMS you just opened.

There is no consensus anywhere as to what constitutes a "spell."

There is even LESS consensus as to what makes a spell go.

Intent is a good starting place. It is probably where you should start for all acts of practical magic.

But I find that in it's common form, the idea of intent + willpower = magic has been diluted past the point of utility for most people.

Like if we're talking about "intent is everything" I'm reminded most closely of Chaos Magic. But Chaos Magic is not a school of "just set your intent and you've worked magic!". It's a very rigorously developed system.

In Hine's Condensed Chaos, he lists the third Core Principal of Chaos magic as technical excellence, and I quote:

One of the early misconceptions about Chaos Magic was that it gave practitioners carte blanche to do whatever they liked, and so become sloppy (or worse, soggy) in their attitudes to self-assessment, analysis, etc. Not so. The Chaos approach has always advocated rigorous self-assessment and analysis, emphasized practice at what techniques you're experimenting with until you get the results you desire. Learning to 'do' magic requires that you develop a set of skills and abilities and if you're going to get involved in all this weird stuff, why not do it to the best of your ability?

Later in the book, Hine likens "magical powers" to the concept of achievements, and goes on to say:

Something which is an achievement is the result of practice, discipline, and patience.

Shortly after:

Chaos Magic is not about discarding all rules and restraints, but the process of discovering the most effective guidelines and disciplines which enable you to effect change in the world.

(In above quotes, all emphasis my own)

But these ideas get taken - and I'll give a big nod to the LOA which is just the worst kind of brainrot for encouraging the "intent is all that matters" mindset - and the ideas get diluted so much that people are literally out here saying, "so all those people who spend years studying magic in order to get results are buffoons? All I have to do is imagine what I want and it will be delivered to me? All humans since the start of history just have to decide they want something and it will happen in a miraculous manner?"

(Not you, Anon. I'm just in a mood)

In my mind, yes - something beyond intent must occur in order to make spells go.

But what?

Anon, have you ever heard that dumb belief floating around that all herbs in a spell can be replaced by rosemary, and all stones in a spell can be replaced by clear quartz, and these two things are "universal substitutes"?

I am 95% sure that this nonsense was based on two very popular dictionaries Cunningham wrote in the 80s, the Encyclopedia of Crystal, Gem & Metal Magic, and Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs.

In the very long entry for Clear Quartz:

Quartz crystal is used as a power amplifier during magic. It is worn or placed on the altar for this purpose.

And from Rosemary:

Rosemary is generally used as a substitute for frankincense.

And I believe that someone somewhere got the idea that since clear quartz amplifies all other powers, it therefore somehow magically Ditto-copies all other powers, and like a shapeshifter somehow becomes something it is not nor ever was.

And, you know. What's the difference between subbing out frankincense and blackthorn between friends?

These beliefs have become so popular that sometimes when unscrupulous blogs rip off entire Cunningham encyclopedia entries and paste them into tumblr posts (without credit), THEY INCLUDE THE EXTRA MADE-UP BIT ABOUT ROSEMARY BEING A UNIVERSAL SUBSTITUTE.

Anon, your question is "is it just intent or do we need other stuff to make it go," but sadly,

IMO common beliefs about the stuff that makes spells go have also been diluted past the point of utility for most people.

Because if I sat here and said, "hey Anon, it's not just intent, you also have to use correspondences ^-^/" then the very first thing you are likely to run into is absolute nonsense about correspondences. IMO, effective utilization of correspondences is a skillset based in research, theory, and technique.

Or if I said, "you also have to raise energy! 👍", this may be mistaken to mean, "set intent but also visualize white light inside of a candle," because the concept of raising energy and visualizing has been (IMO) diluted past the point of utility for most people. I believe that effective utilization of energy work is a song composed of many notes and chords, several of which you must practice before you can utilize it.

And to complicate all of this, which non-diluted things in which combinations you need to make the spell go depends on what paradigm you operate off of, because while there are approximately one billion ways to do magic that works, my currently very dim worldview is that most people who are talking about magic are doing magic that doesn't work,

and in my opinion the actual basis and reasoning, like the rationality behind the magical systems is really important. Because you need that shit to understand what it is within that system that makes the spell go.

And you need to understand what makes the spell go to make the system fit into your life without breaking it, and in order to troubleshoot problems without making things crumble further.

Because when people don't understand the basis and reasoning you end up with "rosemary is a universal substitute" and "imagining white light makes the spell go."

There are a few circumstances where you can totally strip technique from theory and be successful, but there are also a hell of a lot of people out here feeling shit about their practice because their spells never seem to work.

So.

I really just recommend choosing what school of magic you would like to learn about and participate in, and reading an introductory book on it.

This is because it is the job of introductory books to explain the principles and theories behind a system of magic, and most importantly, what makes the magic go, and a step-by-step primer on what you, the practitioner, are supposed to do to make that kind of magic go.

Despite above rambles I'm really not a Chaote, so I can't recommend a strong primer. As far as I'm aware, Liber Null & Psychonaut by Peter J. Carroll is a core text.

For Traditional Witchcraft, try The Crooked Path by Kelden.

For something more Wiccan, I can't recall having anything bad to say about Psychic Witch by Mat Auryn.

If either of these things are too Witchcrafty for you, try Six Ways by Aidan Wachter, which is still witchcraft, but it hits different.

For a general primer on helping your spells go, try Elements of Spellcrafting by Jason Miller.

[akookminsupporter]

ARE YOU SURE?!: FOURTH EPISODE

MY IMPRESSIONS

Preface: This is not an analysis post, and honestly, I don’t want to overanalyse their interactions or everything they said and did—many others are already doing that. My intention with this post is simply to share my thoughts on the episodes, my impressions, and perhaps my conclusions.

I’m writing this as I watch the episodes for the second time.

Okay, this episode picks up right where the last one left off—obviously, Rosie, haha! 

If there’s one thing BTS love almost as much as being on stage and their fans, it’s food, haha! 

One of the things I adore about Jimin and Jungkook, or the maknae line in general, is how silly they can be, but in the cutest way possible. 

To Jimin, Jungkook will always be cute, just like Jimin will always be pretty to Jungkook. 

I can totally see why they love Jeju so much—it’s gorgeous. 

Ahhh, Tae saying he loves travelling with Jimin and Jungkook is adorable. 

Honestly, the best places to eat are often in the sketchiest streets or the hardest to find. I feel like that’s almost a universal law, haha! 

Ahhh, who would’ve thought that in 2024—or technically 2023—we’d see Jimin openly talking about his tattoos in official content, haha. Jimin really loves the moon, and so does Jungkook. I’ve said it so many times, but I LOVE Jimin’s tattoos, especially the ones on his back. Selfishly, I’d love it if they covered his entire back, but obviously, my opinion doesn’t count, haha! 

Look, people can argue about Jikook, Taekook, Jinkook, etc., being Jungkook’s biggest ships, but no one seems to notice that Jungkook’s biggest ship is with good food. There’s no relationship more obvious and strong than that. That man LOVES to eat and cook. 

It’s the little things that often go unnoticed that I love about Jimin and Jungkook, like how, when they’re together, enjoying something or laughing at something funny, they always look at each other to confirm or make sure the other is feeling the same way, saw the same thing, or just to see their reaction. It’s like they’re looking to reaffirm what they’re already thinking or feeling. I’m not sure exactly how to explain it. For example, when they were eating sushi, Jimin or Jungkook would often turn to look at the other and nod, saying how delicious the food was, or reacting happily to what they were eating. It’s similar to when they’re at a concert, and they look at each other and nod as if to say, “Here we go” or “We’ve got this.” 

Ahhh, something I loved seeing in this episode was Jimin being more active, feeling better, and enjoying the trip. 

When Jungkook is eating, he’s oblivious to almost everything around him. It’s so funny watching him so immersed in his culinary experience while Jimin was massaging Tae’s neck because Tae wasn’t feeling well, haha. I mean, they mentioned his name, and he just didn’t hear it, even though Jimin and Tae were just inches away from him, hahaha! Jimin immediately explaining/justifying why Jungkook didn’t have the same neck issue as Tae is nothing new, haha. 

Jimin definitely has my sense of humour, haha! That’s why he and Yoongi bicker so much! Because they’re so similar. Understanding something literally and responding based on that is definitely my kind of humour, haha! 

Can someone please give Jimin and Jungkook a YouTube channel already? Jungkook would record everything and edit everything, and Jimin would be the frontman. That man is always pretending to be a YouTuber, and Jungkook always plays along. 

The passive-aggressive dynamic between Jungkook and Tae is so entertaining, but sometimes I can’t tell if Jungkook is being a cheeky brat or if he’s serious, haha! Again, I don’t get why so many people persist in not understanding the dynamic between those two. 

I recently tried sushi, and I get the hype now. I totally get the boys’ reaction, and I’m sure the sushi I had wasn’t as good, fresh, or authentic as what they were eating. 

The three of them honestly looked like baby birds waiting to be fed, haha! They take good food very seriously, haha! 

Something we saw a lot in this episode is how Jimin and Jungkook completely get each other’s quirks and know how to play along because it’s basically the same for both of them. Watching them with others, especially other members, just makes it more obvious because the other person, in this case, Tae, looks lost/confused about what Jimin and Jungkook are saying or doing, haha! 

Yes, Jimin, please do more shows like this! I’m totally on board. Jungkook obviously agrees. 

Okay, it’s sweet that Tae thought of Joon and wondered why he didn’t join them. Something no one can deny, no matter how hard they try, is that those seven guys love being together. They’re always thinking of each other, BUT the fact that Jungkook almost immediately responded that not everyone is invited/part of the show is such a MOOD. The fact that he did it while sounding and looking serious makes it even funnier. The way Jimin followed up by saying the show was really for him and Jungkook, practically implying that even Tae shouldn’t have been there and that he only was because they allowed it, is an even bigger MOOD. And then Tae wrapping it all up by saying he felt it and was grateful they invited him is pure comedy, but with a bit of dark humour. It made me wonder if even off-camera, Jimin and Jungkook kept reminding Tae that he was just a guest and the show was really for the two of them, haha! Ahhh, the passive-aggressive relationship between these three is something else. 

Jimin and Tae are just too adorable together. 

Jungkook is really a passive-aggressive brat with Tae, isn’t he? Haha! 

They’ll always be each other’s biggest fans. 

Tae basically rubbing it in our faces that he can just call up and ask for an unreleased song hurt, haha! The privilege of being a BTS member. It’s also lovely to hear how much admiration they have for each other.

“Alone” is truly an incredible song. It’s still one of my favourite Jimin tracks and one that feels deeply personal to me.

I don’t know if this happened to anyone else, but I was surprised when Jimin took his shirt off, and I’m not sure why, haha. It’s just, well, it’s so out of character for him! Even though he always says he walks around the house barely dressed and loves showing off his shoulder, hahaha. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining—I love seeing Jimin’s tattoos.

Jungkook was checking out Jimin, wasn’t he? He was.

Hearing Jungkook say “Jimin-ssi” will always give me life, haha.

Okay, I’ve mentioned this before, and it’s my first tinhat moment of the episode, but Jungkook reminded Jimin that the pool was see-through because he knows what they’re like when they’re together. It was like a warning, wasn’t it? Like, “Remember, they can see us,” hahaha.

Okay, I’m not really into comparing dynamics, but one of the reasons I think it’s great that Tae was with Jimin and Jungkook in this setting is that you can clearly see the dynamic between each duo and how Jimin and Jungkook’s is just different from the others. And like I said in another post, the way each duo played in the pool is a good description of each one and how different they are from each other. This doesn’t mean it makes one ship real or more real than the other; it just shows why many of us see Jimin and Jungkook’s dynamic as different and a bit more similar to that of a romantic couple.

Jungkook and Tae playing in the pool were like two energetic guys just having fun. It’s what you’d expect to see when you hear the words “pool” and “men” in the same sentence. And yes, that sounds a bit sexist and stereotypical, but that was the vibe they gave off, sorry.

Jimin and Jungkook, on the other hand, were two guys being silly and careful with each other. I’ve already mentioned this above, but Jimin and Jungkook share the same quirkiness, and that helps them understand each other on levels that other members don’t. Some people on Twitter said they “get each other’s freak,” and they’re right, and this becomes even more evident when another member is around them. That’s why I always say Jimin and Jungkook operate on a different frequency than the others. They just click. I didn’t say it—Jungkook did.

The way they play is also different. Sorry, but objectively speaking, it is, and even though many deny it, that doesn’t make it any less true. They always seem to be flirting. Jungkook is always a bit more careful when it comes to Jimin, especially when their games involve physical contact. There’s always an extra layer in their interactions that simply sets their dynamic or relationship apart from the rest. It’s no wonder their moments are always used by fans to describe what Jimin or Jungkook would be like as a boyfriend, husband, etc.

I think it’s important to highlight the breath-holding endurance those two have underwater, hahaha!

From what I saw on Twitter and some of the ASKs I’ve received, some people are upset because some Jikookers keep mentioning that Tae was just a guest, and although jikookers are saying this in reaction to the subgroup that last week was pretending the show was about Tae and Jungkook or all of BTS, they’re also doing it because Jimin and Jungkook wouldn’t stop mentioning it in this episode. They directly called Tae “the guest,” so I don’t understand the “upset.”

Tae seemed tired and apparently had a stomach ache or something, so maybe that’s why he didn’t join in the fun, but I also wonder if he didn’t do it because he wanted to give Jimin and Jungkook their space. It seems he did something similar on the yacht, but we’ll get to that later.

Guys, I’m not even halfway through the episode, and I’ve already written three pages. I wonder if anyone has actually made it this far. If someone is reading this, I’m sorry, I talk a lot, but I feel like so many things happened in this episode that I want to comment on, everything. Oh, and I still need to write my conclusions. Sorry!

Okay, the conversation about ramyeon. I suppose this is the second tinhat moment of the episode. It’s pretty clear that Jimin and Jungkook know the double meaning of the question “Do you want to eat ramyeon with me?” right? Right. So, starting from that premise, it seemed like they were referring to the double meaning of that question or the variation of the question that Jimin asked. Starting with the tone in which Jimin asked the question. Yes, Jimin probably meant the question literally, BUT they knew how suggestive it was. The tone of their voices and certain reactions during that conversation really didn’t help.

Now, “ppeuri.” Is that another one of Jimin and Jungkook’s inside jokes? Yes, they explained why Jimin said it, but the way Jungkook brought it up and Jimin’s reaction makes you think, and sometimes it’s bad to think too much when it comes to these two.

Jimin and Jungkook talking about eating ramyeon while half-naked with their tattoos on full display isn’t good for my heart, let alone my imagination. But seeing them so happy makes me happy.

Also, am I the only one who felt like they cut a part of them around the fire? I hope we see more of that moment in the behind-the-scenes.

Ahhh, the feeling of the everyday life of the first two episodes is back! Jimin and Jungkook talking while getting ready is the most domestic thing in the world. The fact that they then sat together—personal space isn’t a concept they understand—looking at their phones and talking about their plans is simply… normal.

Jungkook confirming with Jimin that he hadn’t slept at all since New York is… interesting. Did Jungkook travel to New York before going to Jeju? I don’t remember. Or was he talking about when he and Jimin were there together? Because if it’s the first one, why would Jimin know that (more or less rhetorical question), and if it’s the second one, wow. I mean, was the last time Jungkook slept well when he was with Jimin? Or is it because it was the last time he took a break? Even if it technically also counted as work? That moment was definitely edited and had parts cut out.

Jimin and Jungkook silently competing to see who got to the bed first is too funny, and the fact that Tae was awake or had woken up anyway makes it even funnier, hahaha!

Now, Jimin + Jungkook + bed = interesting, right? Haha. The way Jimin immediately threw his legs over Jungkook, and Jungkook just laughed and got more comfortable without even bothering to move them, really shows how at ease they are with each other. Although Jimin and Jungkook are pretty comfortable together, it's rare to see them in these kinds of situations or moments—or better yet, in bed together, haha—so it’s definitely interesting to see them like this. Jimin warning Jungkook not to hit him again was too funny.

And then, eventually, Jungkook gave his bed to Jimin.

Aww, Jungkook’s conversation with his mum was too sweet. The way they talk the same way is just adorable.

Once again, their relationship, especially Jungkook's, with food is something else, haha. And very serious.

Mate, Jimin and Jungkook teasing Tae sometimes is hilarious, haha.

Not Jungkook telling Tae he basically had to pay for his share of the food. Why is he like this?

Jimin and cats are a match made in heaven, and it’s cruel that he’s allergic.

The guys mentioning that another member would have enjoyed this or that, or wondering why they weren’t there, is just so heartwarming. They really do love each other and appreciate being together. BTS forever.

Yes, Jimin, you guys definitely need to do another show. You can call it whatever you want, but give us another show like this, please.

Jimin, I can tell you that the trips to the USA and Jeju were amazing! Fun. Wholesome. Thank you for sharing those moments with us.

It’s a shame Tae didn’t seem to be feeling well on the yacht, and I also think that wasn’t exactly his kind of fun? Not being on the yacht per se, but swimming or snorkelling like Jimin and Jungkook did. I also wonder if he was giving Jimin and Jungkook their space, after all, the show is about them, and everything they did was planned for the two of them.

Okay, Jimin pretending to be a paramedic giving first aid to one of the members isn’t new, but pretending to give mouth-to-mouth is?! And the way Jungkook didn’t seem surprised—sorry, but the editor’s comment, “A way-too-effective-kiss of life (?)” hello?! The way Jimin seemed embarrassed or shy immediately afterwards was too funny.

Jimin and Jungkook are just too cool. We often talk about how adventurous Jungkook is, but sometimes we forget that Jimin is just as adventurous. He likes fun things that some might consider extreme. He enjoys sports and risky stuff, maybe not as much as Jungkook, but almost. And that’s another thing they have in common, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that made planning many of the activities they did much easier.

Jimin and Jungkook are very good swimmers. Jimin and Jungkook just click.

I’d like to believe that once the group resumes activities, the agency editors won’t put stickers to cover their bodies when they’re semi-naked or showing “too much” skin, haha.

It’s funny how both the editors and Jimin and Jungkook themselves use any name but Jikook or Kookmin—though I think Kookmin would be the most obvious and familiar to them. Now it’s not Jikook but Jimkook. Maybe to avoid confusion, haha.

Well, in the end, Jimin and Jungkook did share a packet or cup of ramyeon. Haha.

Mate, the drone suddenly falling into the water was too funny, and I don’t even know why, haha. And Jungkook saying up until the last minute that Tae was the guest of the show is a mood.

Jimin and Jungkook cuddling while watching the sunset, with Jungkook filming it. That’s all that needs to be said.

Wait, didn’t Jungkook say that the drawing Jimin posted on Instagram was of a whale? I remember ARMY was saying it was a fish, I think? And he was like, “No! It’s a whale!” So why was Jungkook originally saying the cloud looked like a shark? Or was that a translation error?

I really loved how Tae respected some of the moments between Jimin and Jungkook and joined them at the right time.

MY CONCLUSIONS ON THE FOURTH EPISODE

God, this post is already too long, so I’ll try to be more concise here.

I really liked the episode. I think the vibe was a mix of what we saw in the first two episodes and the third one. Jimin feeling better changed the trio's dynamic, in my opinion.

Something I think I’ve mentioned several times before the first episode of this show even aired is that I was curious to see the dynamic between Jimin and Jungkook without the presence of the other members, and we got plenty of that in the first two episodes. I believe the contrast couldn’t have been clearer. I also remember saying something similar when it was confirmed that Tae would be in this part of the show. I said it would be interesting to see the dynamic between the three of them—not just without the other members but also in the context they were in. Again, the contrast between each pair and among the three of them couldn’t have been clearer, at least to me, and I think this episode made it even more apparent.

Jimin, Jungkook, and Tae get along really well, but they don’t always vibe on the same frequency. This means that when the fun ends, they can seem a bit awkward. Maybe it’s the cameras, I don’t know. In my post about the previous episode, I talked about how I see the dynamic between each pair, and in this one, where Jimin was more active, it was easier to “compare” the dynamics, especially when Jimin and Jungkook did similar things to what we saw Jungkook and Tae doing in the third episode. I’ve mentioned this above, but to sum up: they’re different. There’s something about the way Jimin and Jungkook interact that looks different. That sounds different. One thing I always notice is that the tone of their voices changes. It becomes softer, quieter. Calmer. And that only happens with them.

I loved the little moments of everyday life between Jimin and Jungkook. The moments of them just being themselves. Being together, having fun. That’s what the show is about, isn’t it?

I liked that, for whatever reason, Tae knew when to give them space. And I think this episode made it clear that this show is really just about Jimin and Jungkook. Even though it wasn’t necessary to prove the obvious, it’s pretty ironic that this happened after all the noise last week. Jikook karma is stronger than ever.

Jimin and Jungkook mentioning more than once that Tae was a guest was funny. They can be a bit petty when they want to be, but at the same time, I highly doubt they were upset about him joining the trip, as many fans have been suggesting. If they weren’t okay with Tae joining them, he wouldn’t have done so. I’m sure of that.

I’m surprised there’s going to be another episode in Jeju, to be honest, but I’m not complaining.

Final conclusion: I liked the episode. I liked seeing Jimin and Jungkook in sync again. Enjoying their holiday, they obviously deserved it and needed it. I’m glad Tae got to experience some of that too. That they were all together.

Now, I’ve seen some posts from the subgroup changing the narrative yet again. Insulting Jungkook and even his mum. How these people still have space in this fandom is beyond me. How no one else is calling them out for their behaviour—no one other than Jikookers, really—is inconceivable. Sad but not surprising. Not really. The narrative will change even more with the next episode, and it’ll be even more drastic once the episodes in Japan start airing. So, brace yourselves.

To those who were happy with this episode but not with the third one, I suggest you ask yourself what kind of fan you are. And I don’t mean a BTS fan; I mean, what kind of fan of Jimin and Jungkook are you really?

If you made it this far, thanks for reading all of this. I’m not sure if it makes sense. Apologies for any spelling and grammar mistakes. See you in the next episode, haha.