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vxvfbezwbrefvj · 1 year

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#Gudren #mistletoe #sprawl #benomyls #back-talk #dopey #Macmillanite #Blepharocera #gentiopicrin #GBZ #pekans #heaved #workways #supergeneric #dunfish #holder-up #orra #ESM #eighty-ninth #analogies

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danwhobrowses · 1 year

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Star Wars Visions Season 2 Confirmed

Once again Anime is coming to enrich the Star Wars universe again. This time we have a much redder aesthetic, which makes me wonder if the stories will be more Dark Side-oriented (though we had a mix of it last season with The Duel, The Twins and Akakiri being more dark side-focused) the episode names seem to suggest it too.

The most interesting company to have their hand at it are the claymation gods Aardman, responsible for Wallace & Gromit, Morph and Chicken Run. But do not underestimate Cartoon Saloon's potential, the studio that gave us Wolf Walkers have the caliber especially in the sci-fi wonder of Star Wars. Same can be said for Studio Mir (Legend of Korra & Voltron) and Studio La Cachette (Primal, LD&R's Sucker of Souls).

Wonder what we'll get from the next 9, though I'm not expecting continuation from the last nine.

#star wars #star wars visions #anime #aardman animations #cartoon saloon #punkrobot #studio mir #triggerfish #d'art stajio #studio la cachette #eighty eight pictures #el guiri studios #still sad we never got to follow up with village bride lop & ocho or the ninth jedi #Ronin got an extra one shot but still all that potential is there #after Andor and Mandalorian have done so well on the non-force side it'd be cool to help rebuff the force side of the series

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187days · 4 months

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Day Eighty

Okay, so the mystery chaos in the bathrooms yesterday? It was something to do with the pipes and the sewers, and it was bad enough that school was canceled today- only at the high school, not throughout the district- and it became a teacher workshop day for us (because some of the bathrooms were fine, just not enough for eight hundred or so people).

The culinary students had prepared breakfast for a meeting that didn't take place, so we got a free breakfast. After that, I held a quick department meeting, spent a bunch of my department's money, attempted to clean my desk, emailed a few students' parents, and did a bunch of lesson planning... So I'd say it was a fairly productive morning, and I think most of my colleagues would say the same. We didn't plan on having this time to get stuff done, but it sure was nice to have it!

Mr. F, Mrs. R, and I had lunch together, and then we joined the rest of our ninth grade house colleagues, Mrs. T, and The Principal for a meeting about the way our classes our scheduled. It got tense because some folks are really frustrated, and, of course, they were venting their frustrations. The thing is, The Principal is totally open to changing the schedule for second semester, so I cut in and said that we should take a vote on whether or not to do that, then move on. I know I sounded snippy, and I feel a little bad about that, but I'm also not wrong. It's decision time.

So we're voting via an email to The Principal. I'm pretty neutral- I can teach Global Studies in whatever schedule I'm given- but I will be glad not to have another meeting about it.

Anyways.

Back to teaching tomorrow unless there's more mystery chaos!

#teaching #edublr #teachblr #education #high school #teacher #social studies #mrs. t #dean 2 #day eighty #Mr. F #Mrs. R #teacher workshop #department head #meetings meetings meetings #ninth grade house

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normally-paranormal · 2 years

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Criss-crossed

Summary: Rose wakes up somewhere strange, unable to remember when or where they are. But she does remember that the Doctor doesn't look like that anymore.

I want to keep poking at this concept if I've got the time for it, but for now, this was just to actually get the thing on paper :)

------

She almost didn’t notice that anything had changed.

Between the cold floor, the dim room, and the throbbing in her head, it took her a moment to even notice him at all. Rose opened her eyes to near darkness and slowly pushed herself up into a sit, letting her eyes adjust and doing first what she’d been almost conditioned to do since she started traveling with the Doctor; she took stock of her surroundings. Not just cold metal floors, but cold metal walls surrounded her. There weren’t any windows, but dim light filtered down from a dirty, quietly humming bulb overhead, the kind she’d associate with schools and dreary office buildings. There was one door in the wall closest to her, bearing a large valve that reminded her of submarines or old ships. It looked a bit like that outpost that she’d witnessed fall into a black hole only recently: the resting place of a few good people and fifty Ood.

The room seemed empty- no TARDIS- and that scared her a bit more than the pure fact that she wasn’t sure how she’d ended up here. She finally got herself off the ground and tried unsuccessfully to brush away the dust that had collected and stuck to her shirt. The room was covered in the stuff- abandoned, then?

“This place could use a sweep,” she said out loud, then paused. She’d registered the missing TARDIS, the empty room, but it hadn’t even occurred to her to think that she would be without the Doctor. That had happened before only at the worst of times. Spinning around, she caught herself breathing a sigh when she found him across the room, slowly standing and pulling himself up by leaning against the wall. He didn’t look any more worse for wear than he usually did, but suddenly something deep in her chest clenched. No, it did more than that, it wrenched, twisting up until she found her breath trapped in her throat.

“Rose?” The Doctor asked, squinting at her through the dark. He’d finally stood, seeming to have gained back his senses after whatever had happened to them. “You alright there? I think we-”

She wasn’t sure what triggered the impulse. Maybe the sound of his voice, maybe the concern hidden within it, but before she could think about it she was running right for him. It was a pure, stupid, silly impulse that had her throw her arms around him and squeeze tight, her heart beating hard. She wasn’t sure what they’d done or how they’d gotten here, but she knew that seeing him felt like a miracle. He caught her- he always did- and squeezed back, just as tight, leaning against the wall to let it support them both. When he spoke again, his voice was a little softer. “Rose?”

“Doctor,” she said, and she hated how meek her voice sounded -hated that she couldn't recall why. She gave him one last tight squeeze, her hands digging into the black leather of his coat-- and that’s when it hit.

The Doctor didn’t wear that coat anymore.

Rose jerked back, half shoving him away from her and half stumbling with the effort, and there he was, just as she remembered. Blue eyes, darker, shorter hair, a stern face that was much more well-suited to boyish grins than it had any right to be. Right now he was giving her a bewildered frown, his arms still falling to his sides from where he’d been holding her. Again he asked, this time expectant, “Rose?”

“You changed,” she said, and the words came out a bit more forceful than she intended. Or maybe she did intend it, she thought. She’d considered before- the first time- that something might have taken him, impersonated him. It seemed more likely now, when whatever this was might not know of his new face.

“What?” The Doctor asked. He took a step forward and she stumbled back another four.

“You changed! I saw you change!” Rose wanted to glance around behind her, to look for a weapon or an exit, but she already knew that the room was empty and she doubted her ability to quickly wrench open that valved door. She had nothing to fight with. Nothing but the domestic approach. “You’re not the Doctor, who are you?”

“I’m not the- did you hit your head a little too hard?”

“You’re not-”

“I happen to know who I am, thank you very much.” He was still wearing that bewildered look, a sight that was shocking just from it’s familiarity. “If I knew you had such a bad memory, I wouldn’t’ve brought you along. Memory loss and time travel don’t mix very well, you know.” He started to push past her, flashing a brief smile and moving on as if there was nothing at all to be concerned about. Which was so frustratingly like him that she knew a part of her wanted to simply follow along.

“You’re not listening to me!” She yelled, a whole lot of that frustration slipping into her voice. “You changed, Doctor. And now you’ve gone and done it again!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Changed how?” He turned around to face her again, and seemed to catch himself before he spat out another snide comment. “Look- I don’t know what happened, but I am going to fix it. You just need to-”

“Changed how?” She repeated, incredulous. She almost couldn't believe him, but then again, that might’ve been the comment that made her believe he really was, somehow, the Doctor. “You died! Or- or something! And then you changed and then it was all right again, I guess, but now you look like-”

His expression had turned grim somewhere in the midst of her rant. He closed in on her, pushing a finger up against her lips to shush her. “Shut up.”

“Doctor-”

“Shut. Up.” He waited for a moment to ensure she would stay quiet, which she did. She looked up at him and realized her heart was racing, like she’d just come face-to-face with some terrible sort of alien. Or, she thought, like she’d just had another argument with him, which she supposed she had. His voice was quiet and stern when he continued. “Now, Rose, I want you to think. The last time I was with you, we were leaving London in the year 2006. You wanted to visit your mum after the ordeal with your dad and the Reapers, so I took you. Ring any bells?”

She opened her mouth to speak and he slowly lowered his hand away. Breath shaky, she said, “But that was ages ago. I don’t..” She trailed off as he gave her a very pointed look. It was the look that told her she had to think it through. He’d given her all the pieces, she just needed to pull them together. “So… what? You’re saying that we… crossed timelines?” She asked. It was the best way she could think to explain it. His face split into one of those boyish grins.

“Something like that. I reckon you and your past self must have switched places somehow. Or..” He paused, that grin returning in a flash. “I suppose I could have traded with my future self. Come on.” Turning to start towards the door just as he had a moment ago, Rose found herself hesitating. She wasn’t quite sure how he could handle this so nonchalantly, but then again, it was him. All the proof she needed.

“But wait,” she said, and he looked back at her, expectant. Now that she knew what she was looking at, the Doctor in an earlier time, something in her chest hurt. “If you’re here, then where’s..” Where’s my Doctor, she almost asked, but that wasn’t right. This was her Doctor, always had been, always would be. He’d never left her. But, staring at him, it was hard not to feel like she was staring at a ghost. Just like that, her train of thought shifted. “..Wait,” she started more urgently. “Doctor, you should know..”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” he said, stern but not unkind. He met her gaze evenly. “Rose, you should already know this, but I’m going to say it anyway: You can’t tell me anything about what happens between my present and yours. Whatever happens, whatever mistakes you or I make, whatever warnings you want to give, you can’t. I probably know a bit more than I should already.”

“But…”

“We both know you’ve seen the consequences of trying to change something like that.”

She fell quiet. Rose nodded, feeling all the world like she’d been scolded. He was right and she knew it- but it didn’t hurt any less. As if he could simply mend all of his- their- unforeseen sorrows with a grin, he turned on his heel and started for the door. “Now! Let’s see where we are, shall we?”

#anyway!#doctor who #rose tyler #ninth doctor #fic #btw the idea is that they've ended up on the first outpost for the first human colony outside of Earth- I think Rose and Nine are gonna #be about a year after the outpost was established #while Ten and the other Rose are around eighty to a hundred years ahead of them #and ive worked out too why Rose wouldnt remember this happening in her past :)

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fortheloveofwonderland · 10 months

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In This Diary | S.R

Summary - The summer of ‘02 was supposed to be just like any summer that had come before. Spencer Reid was mostly hoping to relax before his started his new job at the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the fall. But best laid plans often go awry.

Now all these years later he’s come into possession of the diary he kept during that time and he’s forced on a trip down memory lane to a perfect Las Vegas summer in which he fell in love for the very first time. But if he’s not careful, he might allow himself to get so lost in his nostalgia he may not be able to drag himself back to the present.

A/N - this goes back and forth a lot in time, I hope it makes sense. Where there’s a page break it goes back to the present day. Based on the song In This Diary by The Ataris. Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge. Thank you again @pinkiceee-prose and @andiebeaword for reading over this 🖤

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - angst with happy ending | strangers to friends to lovers | smut minors DNI

Warnings - post prison, pot smoking, virgin Spencer, slight sub! Spencer, use of “good boy”, mild praise kink (Spencer), handjob, swearing, fingering, masturbation (m), brief mention of medication but no specifics, talk of PTSS, angst, allusions to sex, brief mention of protected sex, oral (m receiving), brief mention of past addiction and Emily’s “death”.

WC - 10.3k honestly I can’t write anything short

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…

The dogeared, weathered pages told their age beneath his fingertips, speaking their tales through skin. Smudged ink seeped through the yellowing paper, penned words of a different time etched to hold their memory.

His fingers danced across them as though reading braille, trying to feel the words the way he had when he'd written them. So much time had passed, so much had changed, this book felt like it was from a different lifetime.

If he closed his eyes he could feel himself there. He could feel the way the hot Vegas sun beat down on him, causing little beads of sweat to roll down his face, feeling it tightening his skin. He could sense the pen in his hand as he scrawled down his thoughts, committing them to these pages.

“What are you doing?”

“Just writing.”

“Writing what?”

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.”

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

He could feel the gravel beneath him, hear the occasional passing vehicle on the freeway whilst hanging out at truck stops just to pass the time.

He could see fireworks illuminating the sky in desolate parking lots, hear their crackle and bang as they exploded and then disappeared.

He could hear the thrum of the eighties songs through tinny speakers, even if he never really enjoyed them. He could feel the droplets of water on his frazzled skin from the splash back of a body diving into the hotel pool which was not strictly open to the public.

It was another life, one he’d long ago left behind but still carried pieces of it with him.

I guess when it comes down to it, being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up…

“Whatcha got there?”

A voice snapped him out of his nostalgia and he quickly closed the old book and looked up from his desk. He blinked a few times to try and bring himself back to the present, back from memory lane which he’d started to get lost down.

Spencer Reid was not known to be a sentimental man, in all honesty he had few good memories from his past to be wistful over. And now was not the time to start.

Luke had an amused smirk on his lips as he looked down at the younger man and the old, tattered journal on his desk.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” Spencer swallowed with a shake of his head.

“Looked like a diary.” Luke’s smile grew, his intense dark eyes full of mirth. “I saw a date in the corner? August twenty ninth two thousand and two. You'd have been…”

“Twenty two. I was twenty two. The summer before I joined the BAU.” He sighed as he spoke, not thrilled to be sharing this part of his life with Luke.

It was unfounded, given that it was probably the happiest time of his life. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t want his friends to know about it.

There was something about keeping the memory pure, not having it sullied by outsiders. That secret summer belonged only to the two people who had lived it.

“I didn't peg you for a journaler.” Luke shrugged.

“I’m not usually. I don’t really know why I kept a diary that summer.”

That wasn’t entirely true. He’d kept a record of those days in case, for whatever reason, his memory failed him. If something happened to cause his brain to forget, that was one time in his life he wanted to ensure he’d never lose.

And since his mothers diagnosis, it was an entirely real possibility that one day he may forget. There were many moments in his life he’d like to be able to neglect, his drug addiction, Gideon’s death, prison; but the summer of ‘02 was not one of them.

In truth he’d forgotten all about the journal. It wasn’t until his mothers move to DC when he’d been going through old boxes of her stuff that he’d found it.

“Can I read it?” Luke’s smile turned cheeky, he already knew what the answer would be but he was just trying his luck.

As expected, Spencer scowled, grabbing the diary and holding it close to his chest as if he believed Luke might try to snatch it from his desk.

“Absolutely not.” He wrapped it tightly against his body.

“Ooh there’s some juicy stuff in there.” Luke chuckled.

“Don’t be crude.” Spencer scoffed but his cheeks started to redden, conveying the truth.

“Oh man, I’m right aren’t I?” Luke’s laughter grew.

It increased in volume enough to grant the attention from the others who had been silently working away at their desks.

“What’s going on?” JJ perked up, her blonde head of hair appearing behind her computer monitor.

“Reid’s got a sex diary.” Luke spoke over his shoulder to the whole bullpen.

“I most certainly do not.” His cheeks burned with his embarrassment and he shrunk a little in his chair.

“Reid? Spencer Reid?” Tara stood from her desk, eyebrow cocked in her blatant confusion. “No way, I don’t believe that.”

“Good, because it's not true.” He held the journal closer to his chest.

“He’s hiding something in there, there’s a reason he won’t let me read it.” Luke scoffed.

“Did it occur to you that some people don’t enjoy sharing their entire life story?” Spencer grumbled.

By now JJ and Matt were on their feet too, and the three other agents closed in on his desk. He was thankful at least Emily, Rossi and Garcia were in their respective offices. He shrunk lower in his chair, wishing he were able to simply vanish into thin air.

“Oh he’s definitely hiding something.” Tara folded her arms across her chest, eyebrow still raised in a combination of suspicion and delight.

“So what if I am? I’m entitled to my secrets.” Spencer complained.

“The last time you kept a secret from us you ended up in prison.” JJ’s shoulders slumped, wincing a little at her own words.

“This isn’t…it’s not like that.” He shook his head. “It’s just memories okay? Memories of a great summer I had before I joined the bureau and I’d like to keep them to myself.”

“Oh it’s totally a sex diary.” Matt chuckled heartily.

“For the love of…” Spencer trailed off, pushing himself to his feet and tucking the journal under his arm. “I really don’t want to talk about this. Can you please just respect my privacy for once? I know how hard that is for you guys.”

“Ouch,” JJ pouted. “Sorry for caring.”

“Jennifer, we both know this has nothing to do with you caring about me.” He clucked, pushing past the gaggle of his friends and marching out of the bullpen.

He felt them watching him, muttering under their breaths as he walked away. He hurried down the corridor out of view until he pushed his way into the men’s bathroom.

He slumped into a stall and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. Placing the old leather bound diary in his lap he ran his fingers over the cover.

He didn’t know why he’d let himself get so worked up over a stupid journal. Except it wasn’t stupid, far from it. It was his collection of memories from a life he wished he could go back and relive.

The twenty two year old who’d put pen to these pages was naive and innocent, his whole life ahead of him. The boy he’d been back then didn’t know of the horrors he was yet to face. It was a much simpler time and he wanted to be able to cling to that without his friends being involved.

For fourteen years his team had been privy to every moment of his life, good and bad. Was it so wrong that Spencer wanted to just keep this one thing to himself?

He huffed out a staggered breath, wishing not for the first time that just cared a little less. It made sense when he was younger, he’d been green when he joined the FBI and the team had treated him with kid gloves, probably rightfully so. But he was a grown man now, older and more worldly, he didn’t need them treating him like a child.

He cracked the spine of the journal, opening it up to the first page and continued caressing the worn page with his fingers. The diary began at the end, retrospectively writing of his adventures during the last week of that summer when he realised he didn’t want those memories to escape him.

August 29th 2002

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters.

Here in this diary he had meticulously journalled everything that transpired during his last few months in his hometown and how those moments had changed his life forever. He cautiously turned the page, careful not to tear the aged paper.

He felt the heat rising, the sun high in the sky. He became aware of the somewhat blistering concrete beneath him, the occasional sound of passing cars. He could make out the scent of sunblock in the air, chlorine from nearby backyard swimming pools.

Brushing his digits across the page he was transported away from Virginia, away from the bathroom on the sixth floor Quantico office. As he closed his eyes, the Las Vegas summer stretched out before him.

June 2nd 2002

The temperature edged over a hundred two days ago and the AC hasn’t worked in three years. Really need to sell the house, I must look into that when I get to DC. Mom hasn’t lived here since I sent her off to Bennington and this was the last summer I’d be needing it.

It was cooler to sit outside, despite the humidity, it was preferable to the stuffy house with no AC. I planned to go to the library, basking in its glorious air conditioning unit but after stepping outside and immediately feeling the sweat gathering all over my skin, I decided against walking for five miles in this heat.

And boy would I be glad for that decision.

I’m not sure what it was that tore my attention away from the Great Gatsby that morning. I had this feeling, this inexplicable feeling running through my veins and forcing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention.

And when I looked up, there she was. It was as though she was floating, drifting so effortlessly across the street I was sure her feet didn’t touch the ground. She regarded me curiously, most people did. She was unblinking, a slow and cautious smile building on her lips.

I simply stared back in awe at this angelic creature heading my way, never letting her gaze falter from me. I was stunned into silence as she approached up the front path, head tilting to the side as she analysed me.

She invited herself closer, up the three concrete stairs before dropping to the top step right next to me, opening her mouth and inquisitively speaking…

“What are you reading?” You smiled at him in what you hoped to be an amicable manner, but nonetheless his back straightened as if you posed a threat to him.

“Uh…” he swallowed thickly, his Adams apple bobbing. “Me?”

“Yes you.” You laughed. “Who else would I be talking to?”

The peculiar man looked around like he expected someone else to be sitting on his stoop with the two of you. He scratched at the back of his neck nervously.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He rolled his chapped lip between his teeth.

“I’m Y/N.” You shook your head, still laughing a little at his obvious awkwardness.

“Sp-Spencer.” He stuttered.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer.” You nodded curtly. “I’m house sitting for my aunt for the summer, what’s good to do around here?”

Her smile could have lit up the whole night sky, her laugh the sweetest sound I’d ever been lucky enough to hear. She was summer, she would still be summer in the dead of winter. She was magnetic, effervescent.

She was the first drop of rain after a long drought, she was those first few seconds in the morning when you wake up where you momentarily forget all of life's problems. She was…

“Reid, you in here? We got a case.” Luke’s voice broke him out of his revere, eyes flickering off of the page up to the closed stall door.

“I’ll be right there.” He croaked, closing the diary again.

He closed his eyes and inhaled until his lungs were full. He counted to five in his head and listened for the door to close before he slowly exhaled. He repeated the action three more times before he trusted himself to stand.

He swore he could still smell your perfume as he forced his way out of the bathroom and back to reality.

***

June 14th 2002

All the nights we stayed up talking, listening to 80's songs. It still brings a smile to my face.

Her aunt's house, which I came to learn was just up the street and had a new, state of the art AC unit fitted. The next two weeks we spent nearly everyday there listening to her favourite songs on the old stereo, most of which I’d never heard before.

The likes of Van Halen, The Cure, AC/DC and The Pixies played on repeat while she quizzed me on my life and I on hers. She was from San Francisco and her aunt was on vacation so she’d offered to house sit for the summer. She was a year younger than me at twenty one and fresh out of college with no idea where she was heading next.

I kind of envied her, she was a free spirit, she could go anywhere she wanted, do anything she wanted. And for whatever reason, she chose to spend her summer with me.

You hummed along to the music, Where is My Mind by the Pixies encompassing the room. You laid on your back on the couch, your feet in Spencer’s lap and the AC sending its cool waves towards you.

You cradled the blunt between your fingertips, every now and again raising it to your lips and sucking on it. The room was filling with smoke, the smell of it alone enough to make Spencer a little light headed.

“You sure you don’t want any of this?” You spoke with a lungful smoke.

“I’m good, really.” Spencer smiled his tight-lipped smile you’d grown accustomed to the last few weeks.

“It would be out of your system before you start your big government job.” You giggled.

“It’s not just that.” He shook his head. “Smoking marijuana at our age while our brains are still technically developing can affect IQ. A study showed that those who started smoking pot before twenty five lost six to eight IQ points by middle age.”

You sat up on your elbows, your eyebrows deeply furrowed at him.

“You think it’s really going to affect your life so much if you lose a couple of IQ points, Doc?” Your lip quipped up into a smile.

“I don’t want to risk it.” Spencer noted your slightly bloodshot eyes.

You took another long drag, the sound of the paper crackling as it burnt filled his ears. You breathed it in before slowly exhaling the smoke out into the room.

“Hmm,” you hummed in content, dropping the half smoked blunt into a little glass dish on the coffee table. “Now I feel light as a feather.”

“You could get that feeling in many other ways. The main psychoactive ingredient, THC, is simply stimulating the part of the brain that responds to pleasure. It’s releasing dopamine which is what’s giving you that euphoric feeling.” He told you almost sternly.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, sitting up further so you could get a good look at him.

“Pleasure, huh?” You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah,” he swallowed. “It’s the same way you would respond to food or…”

“Or?” Your lip twitched.

“Other pleasurable activities.” He swallowed again, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

You swung your legs off of his lap and shuffled closer to him on the couch. You saw him swallow yet again, noticed his chest heave with a deep breath.

The closer you got to him the more you could feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves and you dared move so you were straddling his lap.

Your knees pressing either side of his thighs, you wrapped your arms around his neck and a hagged breath left between his pouty lips. His cheeks were a deep crimson colour now and from this position in his lap you knew exactly why.

“Spence?” You whispered as he looked at you in embarrassment.

It would be painfully obvious from where you were sitting that he was aroused and he felt so incredibly vulnerable in that moment.

“Yes, Y/N?” He croaked.

“What other pleasurable activities are you talking about?”

“I think…I think you know.”

“Hmm let’s pretend I don’t.” You smiled coyly. “After all, I’ve probably knocked off a few IQ points right? What other pleasurable activities?”

You rolled your hips a little in his lap and Spencer mewled at the sensation. This was the closest he’d ever come to having someone other than himself touch him and he felt dizzy. He felt so dizzy that when he spoke, he wasn’t sure he’d even meant to let the word slip off his tongue.

“S-sex.” He breathed, the smile on your face growing in approval.

“Well now, that does sound more appealing than smoking.” You edged your face closer to him, rolling your hips into his lap once more.

He smelt your perfume and the pot on your breath. He felt like his skin was on fire and he couldn’t form a coherent thought.

A moment before you lips touched his, the sound of a phone ring cut through the room and you sprung apart suddenly.

Spencer remained sitting on the couch while you ambled over to the landline. He watched you go, half wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing.

But the erection still visible through his slacks begged to differ.

***

He returned the journal to his satchel as the jet came into land near Dallas. He knew word of his mysterious diary had reached Emily and Rossi and the whole team had been watching him read on the flight.

He tried to cast his memories to the back of his mind and focus on the case, people were being murdered and that had to take precedence over his nostalgic thoughts.

Emily sent him and Rossi to the morgue and Spencer tried to pretend he was focused on a case file while Rossi drove them. He could see the older man looking at him in his peripheral vision.

Thankfully Rossi did not ask him about the journal even though Spencer knew he wanted to.

It was in the back of his mind all day and after he retired to his hotel room and showered, he found himself thumbing through to the next page.

July 1st 2002

Breaking into hotel swimming pools, and wreaking havoc on our world. Does it make me completely dumb that I would follow her to the ends of the earth?

I knew it was a bad idea, but I just can’t say no to her. She said she had something fun planned and so like an idiot I came along.

I didn’t say anything when we jumped the fence. It was around eleven pm and all the lights around the pool were out, the stars and the moon reflecting on the still water.

I still didn’t say anything when she started stripping down to her underwear, mostly because it rendered me speechless. The sight of her in nothing but that skimpy black lace lingerie caused me to forget my own name and I’m sure I just stared at her slack jaw.

It’s been a few weeks since I think she tried to kiss me and she hasn’t said anything about it. I’m starting to think I misread the situation entirely.

At least I was, until she stripped off her clothes by the side of the pool and curled her finger at me, beckoning me closer.

“You fancy a dip, Spencer?” Your voice was breathy and he followed your motion to come closer.

“Uh, won’t we get in trouble?” He padded forward all the same.

“Only if we get caught.” You giggled, reaching for him as soon as he was close enough.

You gripped him by the lapels of his shirt to tug him forward before your fingers glided towards the top button. He stared at you without a word while you effortlessly popped the buttons one by one.

Once you’d gotten the last button undone your hands moved to his shoulders and you helped push the fabric down his arms until it dropped to the floor.

He was painfully skinny but it didn’t stop him from subconsciously sucking in his small stomach. Your eyes grazed up and down his torso, taking in every inch of skin.

He felt hot beneath your gaze despite the fact the temperature plummeted at night. He felt self conscious, not worthy of your eyes on him. But when you met his gaze again you were smiling.

When your hands landed on the button of his slacks his breath hitched and his legs wobbled slightly. You giggled again, a sound that had become Spencer’s favourite melody over the past month.

You made quick work of the button and zipper before hooking your fingers in the side of his pants and shimming them down his legs.

Spencer stayed still and silent while you undressed him until his pants pooled at his feet and he kicked off his converse so he could remove them completely.

His hands darted in front of him, trying to hide the exceedingly noticeable tenting in his tight boxers. He could tell you knew what he was trying to hide by the playful smile now on your lips.

It was an all too regular occurrence around you. You only had to glance at him a certain way and he would be standing at full attention. It wasn’t his fault, you were unfairly beautiful.

Suddenly you turned your back on him, floating as you so often did towards the pool. Before Spencer’s brain could catch up you were diving into the still water, causing ripples to roll out across the pool.

A few droplets splashed up onto his face and chest. While you were submerged he moved closer to the edge and slipped into the cool water before you could have a chance to scrutinise his body again.

When you emerged you wiped your hair off your face and found Spencer in the pool, leaning back against the wall. The water wasn’t too deep but he crouched down so it was covering him up to his chest.

You waded towards him, eyes sparkling from the moonlight. He pushed himself back against the side of the pool, his nerves written all over his face.

“Everything okay, Doc?” You asked as you neared him.

“Fine, just fine.” He nodded stiffly.

“You sure about that?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, moving dangerously closer.

“Hmm mmm.” He tried to insist but you weren’t buying it.

Your eyes were dark by the time you were right in front of him, almost black. The smile on your face was sinful and it made Spencer’s knees weak.

No one had ever looked at him the way you were looking at him at that moment. He may be naive but he knew exactly what that look meant. And as if to prove that point, your right hand disappeared under the water and seconds later it was palming him through his underwear.

A pathetic whimper left his lips at the contact even though there was a layer of wet fabric between him and your hand.

Your smile grew at his reaction, your other hand now moving to grip his shoulder. Spencer’s arms remained at his sides, his breathing already heightened.

“Spencer?” You whispered. “Has anyone ever touched you like this before?”

He rolled his lip between his teeth and shook his head dispondantly.

“No,” he confessed. “I, uh, I’ve never even…kissed anyone before.”

He felt the heat spreading to his cheeks and he was painfully aware of your hand still palming him. Your smile turned a little sad, pitying almost.

“You want to change that?” Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “Yes p-please.”

“So polite,” you stepped even closer. “Such a good boy.”

When your lips finally touched his, he whined against them, feeling an explosion of emotions in one simple action. Your tongue easily made its way into his mouth and your hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his head.

You kissed him fiercely, exploring his mouth with hunger. Spencer didn’t do much of anything, simply stood limply while you kissed the air from his lungs.

He continued to whine against your lips when your hand started moving around his shaft. His hips started to rock against you of their own accord and he so desperately wished there wasn’t a piece of fabric in his way.

As though you could read his mind your hand shifted and your fingers trailed across his stomach just about the waistband of his boxers. He moaned deeply and you pulled back from the kiss, a questioning expression on your features.

“Can I?” You panted as you spoke, nodding your head downwards.

All Spencer could do was nod dumbly in response.

You smiled before leaning in to kiss him again, somehow more ferociously than before. When your hand slid inside the sodden material of his boxers and wrapped around his length an animalistic moan erupted from his lips, swallowed down in your own mouth.

Your small hand couldn’t quite reach all the way around his thick shaft as you started moving up and down on it. His hips started bucking harder than before, telling you he enjoyed it.

His brain was mush, he couldn’t form a single coherent thought except how phenomenal your hand felt. His lack of awareness allowed him a little more confidence and he finally moved his arms, his hands finding your face and holding you while he kissed you.

You smiled against his lips, the water started to lap around your bodies with your movements. You kept up a steady pace as you stroked him while removing one of his hands from your face.

He let you guide his hand over the planes of your body until it was situated between your legs. He inhaled sharply, having to tear his lips away from yours.

You were both panting as you looked at each other, his breathing staggered due to the way you were touching him. His hand was still between your legs, ghosting outside of your panties.

“You…you’re sure?” He breathed erratically.

“Very.” You nodded, increasing your speed and eliciting another feral moan from Spencer.

“I…I’ve never done this before.”

“You strike me as a quick learner.” You smirked.

“F-fuck…” he mumbled. “I…I am.”

“Make me feel good, Spence. Be a good boy for me.”

Your words of praise made him hiss, bucking hard into your hand. It was enough encouragement for him to inch your panties aside before his fingers slid beneath the fabric.

You were surprised to say the least when one of his digits quickly found your clit and started rubbing it deftly, as though he’d done this hundreds of times before.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open, your grip on him faltering for a second at the sensation.

“Fuck…” you whined, trying to focus on your strokes. “You…you sure you’ve never done that before?”

“P-positive.” He nodded, his knees buckling as he felt precome leaking from his head. “S’good?”

“So good, baby. So good.” You crashed your lips together again as he increased his speed, rubbing your sensitive bud like he’d been doing it his whole life.

You squeezed the base of his shaft before matching his speed with your strokes. You were moaning into each other's waiting mouths, water frantically lapping around your bodies.

You whined when his finger disappeared from your clit but soon two of his digits were swiping through your folds. When you felt them pressed against your entrance, begging for access, you nibbled on his bottom lip and squeezed his cock again telling him to continue.

You moaned in unison as his two long, slender fingers entered you. Spencer felt as though he might pass out at the sensation as his fingers pushed all the way inside of you.

He felt your shift and move around him, your walls fluttering against his digits. That combined with the way you were frenziedly pumping him caused his stomach to tighten with the telltale signs of his impending orgasm.

“Oh my gosh you feel so incredible.” He whined, plunging his fingers deeper inside you.

You felt him twitching in your hand, still lazily rocking into your touch.

“Are you close, baby?” Your thighs squeezed around his hand.

“Y-yes.” He admitted, fingers coniniting to move in and out of you, desperate to give you as much pleasure as you were bestowing upon him.

“Come for me, Spence. Come for me.”

He whimpered again, the pressure building in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t hold back any longer even if he wanted to.

With a staggered moan his hips jut forward as he came in the pool, while you stroked him through his first orgasm not at his own hand.

***

In a hotel room just outside of Dallas, Spencer narrowly managed to move the journal out of the way just in time for him to spill his load over his own hand.

He fell back against the lumpy pillows, breathing heavily and his hand still slowly moving up and down his spent shaft.

He glanced at the diary through hazy eyes and shook his head, removing his hand from his cock and wiping his seed on the bed sheet.

He swore he could feel your hand there even after all these years, feel the water splashing around his naked torso.

He could feel you around his fingers, the way you clenched tighter as you came not so long after he did.

He could still feel the weight of your body as you fell against him in the pool, head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you panted heavily into his wet skin.

Things had been so much simpler then, he sometimes yearned for those days. A part of him wished he hadn’t found the journal in the first place then maybe he wouldn’t have found himself sucked down this particular rabbit hole.

Despite the memories swarming his brain he fell asleep without even cleaning himself off, one hand on his rapidly beating heart and the other clutching the battered diary.

***

July 4th 2002

Lighting fireworks in parking lots, illuminates the blackest nights. Cherry cokes under this moonlit summer sky.

I suggested going to an organised event for the Fourth of July celebrations but she insisted that we have our own.

She brought a ton of fireworks, it was a wonder she didn’t blow a hand off that night, fumbling to light them whilst dragging on a blunt.

But I simply watched her from the back of her aunt’s old VW Camper, sipping on my coke in absolute awe of her every move.

Since our pool escapades the other day, every time I look at her I get chills. Every time I catch sight of her I think of the way she felt as she touched me, as I touched her…

She hasn’t even so much as kissed me since and I’m partially wondering if it was all a vivid dream. At least I was until tonight.

You sauntered back over towards the open back doors of your camper where Spencer sat cross legged on a blanket.

Seconds later an array of fireworks erupted in the sky over the abandoned parking lot, the sounds and the colours a feast for the senses.

But you weren’t watching them. You were watching him.

You crawled into the back of the van, right into his lap, straddling him as you took a long pull on the joint. You inhaled the smoke and tossed the butt over your shoulder before placing your hands on his shoulders.

When you kissed him the smoke filtered out of your mouth and into his but he didn’t care. His arms wrapped around your waist while your tongues explored each other's mouths.

You guided him backwards so he was laying down, his cock already fully erect and pressing against you. You laid on top of him and continued to kiss him fiercely.

His hands found purchase on your back, gently holding you close. You were grinding against him causing him to moan into your mouth and squirm beneath you.

He knew where this would inevitably lead if he let it. He wanted to, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of being a virgin forever and you were the first woman to ever show him this kind of attention.

But he didn’t want to just be another guy to you. He didn’t want to just be a quick lay you’d forget all about. And inevitably that’s what would happen.

It wasn’t something the two of you talked about often but at the end of summer you were going back to San Francisco and he was going to DC. If he slept with you that’s all it would ever be. And he didn’t want that.

You continued to kiss him and grind against him but his intrusive thoughts got the better of him and all the blood that had previously been flowing south rerouted itself. He didn’t even realise until you sat back and looked at him curiously.

“Is everything okay?” You breathed heavily, lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He frowned up at you.

“Uh…” Your eyes flicked down towards his crotch at the same time he realised he was completely flaccid.

His cheeks burnt and he cursed his overactive brain.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head, trying to sit back up.

You slid off of his lap and sat next to him while he drew his legs close to his body.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. I’m sorry if I come on a little strong.” You shrugged meekly.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just…I don’t want to lose my virginity to someone I’m never going to see again once summer is over.” He cringed at his own words, at how needy and sad he sounded.

Your expression turned pitying and it made him feel even more stupid.

“I get it.” You smiled softly. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“It’s kinda hard not to be.” He buried his head into his knees and hugged his arms around his shins. “I’m sure most guys, normal guys, would jump at the chance to be with a woman as beautiful as you. No one’s ever looked at me the way you do, I was always so much younger than my peers so it made sense. I wasn’t waiting or anything, not deliberately. But now the opportunity has presented itself, I don’t think I’m the casual sex kind of guy. God that sounds so lame.”

You were smiling to yourself at how adorable he was. With his face against his knees his words were muffled but you caught the gist of them.

You shuffled closer to him and placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his face back up so he would look at you.

“I think that’s kinda noble.” You whispered.

“I think the word you’re looking for is sad.” He huffed.

“No, it’s not.” You let go of his face. “I understand, Spencer. I wish I’d waited, I wish I’d waited for someone like you.”

He let you wrap your arms around him and he leant against your chest while you held him. Off in the distance fireworks continued to illuminate the sky, the far off sound of their explosions a strange comfort.

***

Spencer rubbed his eyes with his palms somewhat aggressively after almost an hour of staring at the map of their unsubs hunting ground.

Despite falling asleep quickly last night his peace had been short lived and he’d woken less than two hours later and couldn’t get back to sleep.

He didn’t know why he was letting the diary affect him in such a way, shouldn’t it have the opposite result? Those entries were from the best days of his life, but maybe it served as a reminder that he could never go back to that time.

He wasn’t that naive kid anymore, he’d suffered one too many traumas in his life to ever be that kid again. Back then his most difficult decision was whether or not to have sex with a beautiful woman. He longed to have such trivial problems.

He’d felt so stupid after the night of the fourth of July he had avoided you for two weeks after. He’d wasted what precious time the two of you had together feeling idiotic over his decision to turn you down and hidden out in the public library just to circumvent any further interaction with you.

He turned to face the room, realising he was alone in the small meeting room. Last he checked JJ and Luke were at the table going over files, when had they left?

He frowned to himself, reaching for his satchel and pulling the journal out, flipping to the next page.

July 19th 2002

Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up, these are the best days of our lives. The only thing that matters is just following your heart, and eventually you'll finally get it right.

He closed his eyes with a shake of his head. Wasn’t that the painful truth? He’d written that particular entry with a smile on his face like the cat that got the cream. That date had been the best of his whole whirlwind summer.

After stewing in his stupidity for two weeks he had shown up at your aunt's house unexpected and uninvited. You’d barely let him inside before he’d kissed you. And it wasn’t long at all before he was leading you back to the couch.

“Spence, what’s going on?” You panted, looking up at him from where you laid on the couch.

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” He was fumbling a little with the buttons of his shirt, hands noticeably shaking.

“But I thought…you said you didn’t want this? And then you don’t talk to me for weeks and now you-”

“I was overthinking, I do that a lot. But I don’t want to overthink this.” He finished unbuttoning the shirt and dropped it to the floor before climbing on top of you and kissing you again.

“You’re sure?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Extremely.” He replied.

He snapped the journal closed before he could get carried away. He didn’t exactly go into graphic detail of what transpired on your aunt’s couch that day but it was certainly not safe for work material.

He didn’t need to read the words anyway, he’d memorised everything about that day. He learnt by heart the way your skin felt against his, the way the two of you melted together as though your bodies somehow became one. He’d retained every little detail of how you felt, every tiny movement of your body as he’d made love to you.

He couldn’t forget even if he wanted to.

Just as he was slotting the diary back into his satchel, trying not to get caught up in the blissful memory, the door opened and JJ strolled in carrying two take out coffee cups. She smiled at him, handing him one of the drinks. He smiled at her in thanks.

Her eyes flitted to his open bag and the diary nestled inside. When she looked back at him she had an amused expression on her face.

“So, sex diary, huh?” She chuckled lightly.

“It is nothing of the sort.” He rolled his eyes.

“Alvez is convinced otherwise.”

“Well Alvez doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Summer of oh-two right?” She narrowed her eyes on him, the way she did when she was trying to profile him.

“Yeah.” He took a sip of coffee.

“Wasn’t that-”

“Yes.” He cut her off.

The summer I met the love of my life.

He’d told JJ snippets from that summer, she was the only one who he’d ever told. She knew as much as he’d met a wonderful woman who he’d lost his virginity to and over the course of a summer had fallen in love with her. As far as he knew she’d never told anyone.

“So why has it gotten you so tetchy? I would have thought you’d like to relive those days?” She slid into one of the chairs sipping her own coffee but her scrutinising gaze stayed on him.

He let out a haggard sigh, taking a seat next to her and using his free hand to swipe his hair back off of his face.

“Do you ever feel like the best days of your life have passed you by?” He found himself asking.

JJ’s expression softened, a melancholy smile adorned on her lips. She sat forward slightly in the chair.

“Is that really what you think?” She placed a gentle hand on his knee and she felt him tense up at her touch.

“Maybe, I don’t know.” He wiggled his nose, a gesture he did when he was uncomfortable. “I guess I just miss being that carefree.”

“Spencer Reid, carefree? Can’t picture it.” JJ laughed around her cup.

“Fine, maybe not carefree.” He chuckled too. “But not…this. I’m worried I’m never going to bounce back from prison. I went to therapy, I took the medication, I should be over it by now.”

“Spence, you have PTSS, that doesn’t just go away. You know as well as I do, probably better, that the symptoms can be managed, that it can remain dormant for months, even years. But the trauma you suffered is what evoked your PTSS and that doesn’t leave you. You’ll probably always be dealing with it in one way or another.” JJ squeezed his knee before Spencer moved out of her touch.

He knew what she was saying was right and that’s what made it harder to hear. PTSS was something he would always live with, something that could always be triggered in the future. He’d created coping mechanisms, dealt with his trauma but it didn’t make it go away, it would never just vanish into thin air. He could never undo the damage that had already been done.

“I thought reading that journal would help me feel like my old self but it’s having the opposite effect. Because I’m never going to be that kid again.” He shook his head sadly.

“And why would you want to be?” JJ scoffed.

“Excuse me?” He frowned at her.

“Spence, I knew you at twenty two. You were painfully shy and awkward. It took you years to be able to look me in the eye. You’ve changed so much in the years I’ve known you and that’s not a bad thing. You’re better at your job, you’re a better man now than you were at twenty two, you have to see that?” She hoped her words were getting through, hoped he would listen to her before he fell into a self pity spiral he may never get out of.

He exhaled shakily, taking another sip of coffee while he tried to come up with a response. But he didn’t have to, as soon the door was opening again and Luke entered the room. And Spencer quickly jumped up and returned to his map, effectively shutting down any further conversation on the subject.

***

August 6th 2002

Hanging out at truck stops, just to pass the time. Watching the slew of cars fly by on the freeway, eating bags of chips while she tossed stones out into the rolling desert beyond us.

“Remind me again why we’re here?” He asked you as you flung another stone off into the distance.

You turned to face him, both sitting in the gravel, leaning up against the side of the truck stop building.

“Why not?” You quipped.

“There are countless other more interesting things in Las Vegas than sitting at a truck stop. You’re only here a few more weeks and I thought you wanted to see the city?”

“I have seen the city.”

“You’ve seen abandoned parking lots, old motel swimming pools and the inside of your aunt’s house.” He shook his head.

“Hmm,” you mused. “I have been very acquainted with her ceiling these past few weeks.” You winked at him and his cheeks immediately burned at the insinuation.

It wasn’t a lie. The last couple of weeks the two of you had barely left your aunt’s house in lieu of making the most of each other's company whilst wearing as few clothes as possible.

Spencer wasn’t strictly complaining about that, sex with you was one of the wonders of the world and he’d happily do it for the rest of his life. But he was painfully aware of what little time you had left together.

“It’s a pretty good ceiling.” He swallowed thickly, having had his own share of experiences in which he was staring at that ceiling too.

You giggled and it was literally music to his ears. You tossed another stone before suddenly getting to your feet.

Spencer followed suit, brushing the dirt off the back of his slacks. You had a mischievous glint in your eyes as you took hold of his hand and started leading him around the side of the building.

“Where are we going?” He asked, not that it really mattered. He’d long ago realised he would follow you anywhere.

“You’ll see.” You giggled again, giving his hand a squeeze.

He followed you inside a grimy and slightly dilapidated bathroom, eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion.

When you let go of his hand and locked the door, his stomach coiled into knots and his cock immediately started to come to life.

“Y/N?” He breathed. “What are we…why are we…?”

You laughed and took him by the hand again, leading him into a stall. The door was coming off of its hinges and the tiled floor was dirty and cracked. You didn’t seem to notice.

You pushed him up against one of the walls in the stall and started kissing him with ferocity. He kissed you back, trying to ignore the stench of a bathroom that was long overdue for a good clean.

He didn’t really have much time to dwell on such trivial things however as soon as you were dropping to your knees on the filthy floor and looking up at him through your lashes.

The simple action had him standing at full attention, his stomach tightly coiled. He’d dreamed of what it would be like to have you go down on him but never imagined it would happen.

He was too polite to ask and too innocent to assume. But it hadn’t stopped him from imagining it countless times.

You smiled at him, toying with the button of his slacks and chewing seductively on your lip.

“Is this what you want, Doc?” You breathed.

“You have no idea.” He nodded somewhat frantically.

“Be a good boy and say it for me. I can’t read your mind.” You teased.

The idea of dirty talking in any way would have normally freaked him out but it had become clear to both of you early on that when you called him a good boy he’d do just about anything.

“P-please,” he whined, bucking his hips. “Please s-suck my cock.”

You hissed at his words, teeth sinking deeply into your own lip.

“Oh you’re so good, Spencer. Such a good boy for me.” You popped the button as a reward.

“Your good boy.” He agreed with a whimper.

“My best boy.” You smirked, tugging his pants and boxers down to his knees in one swift move.

He gasped as the stale air hit his erect cock and pushed himself back against the stall wall. You ran your tongue along your bottom lip as your index finger ghosted up and down the throbbing vein that ran the length of his shaft.

His knees were already quaking, desperate to feel your lips wrapped around him. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait much longer as soon you bowed your head, parted your lips and took his head into your mouth.

His eyes rolled back in his head in an instant and the sounds coming from his lips could only be described as feral as you slowly took him all the way in your mouth.

He yelped when he hit the back of your throat, partly through pleasure and partly through fear he might hurt you. He knew he wasn’t exactly small, not quite so naive as to be blind to the fact he was sporting an above average sized package.

But to your credit you didn’t even so much as gag and when you looked up at him through your lashes again, nose buried in his pubic hair, he swore you were smiling.

***

At the back of the jet Spencer tried to rearrange his satchel in his lap to disguise his growing erection from anyone who might pass him by. The mere thought of that day you’d given him his very first blow job was enough to make him strain at the front of his slacks.

The case in Dallas was wrapped up in just two days despite Spencer’s lack of concentration and he was so pleased to be heading home.

He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the headrest and trying not to think about that day but failed miserably.

Getting to come while he had sex with you was incredible, of course, but being inhibited by condoms always left him feeling a little incomplete. But the feeling of coming down your throat, having every last drop of his arousal swallowed down while you smiled at him was out of this world.

He whimpered a little under his breath, his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants. He grit his teeth together hard and opened his eyes in an attempt to focus on something else.

August 29th 2002

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters…

“What are you doing?” You sing-songed, dropping yourself next to him on the couch.

“Just writing.” He hurried to close the journal before you caught sight of anything.

“Writing what?” Your eyes were sparkling playfully at him.

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” He shrugged, hugging the book to his chest.

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

Three days later, on September first, you’d been leaving Vegas, waving to him from the rear window of the bus taking you to the airport.

***

September 1st 2002

I don’t know why but some reason I genuinely thought this summer might never end. Time is just a construct right? Maybe this summer could last forever.

More logically, or maybe less depending on how you look at it, I think I actually thought she’d stay, come with me to DC. I asked her to, although I don’t think she realised I was being serious.

“What are you doing?”

“Just writing.”

“Writing what?”

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.”

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

“I know, I’m just scared for this to end. I…Y/N I have fallen in love with you. Don’t go back to California, come to DC with me instead.”

She’d simply laughed as though I’d told the world's funniest joke, patted me on the shoulder and said, “oh wouldn’t that just be the dream, Doc?”

That was three days ago and she hasn’t brought it up since and neither have I. And today I helped her with her bags to the bus station so she could leave me forever.

Get on the bus, it's time to go.

“I am gonna miss you, you know, Doc?” You toyed with his lapel, the sweetest of smiles on your face. “I had a way better summer than I planned for.”

“M-me too.” He croaked, stupidly feeling hot tears brewing behind his eyes.

“Don’t be sad, you’re leaving for Quantico next week. Your dream job, remember? You're going to be saving lives and kicking ass. You’ll forget all about me.” You smiled.

“Doubtful.” He huffed.

The engine of the bus roared to life behind the two of you and your smile turned a little sad. You breathed out before leaning in close and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You have to forget me, Doc. Summers over.” You whispered against his lips and before he could reply you were turning away and sauntering to the doors of the bus.

His heart constricted in his chest, tears encompassing his vision. Nothing about this was fair even though he’d know all along you’d be leaving. It didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow.

He rubbed his eyes heavily before your face appeared at the back window. You were still smiling but if he didn’t know any better he swore your own eyes were filled with tears.

The sound of the doors closing caused his chest to tighten further. This was it. It was over. You were leaving.

As the bus rumbled into gear and started forward, you waved to him and his tears broke free. He raised his hand and waved back while they rolled down his cheeks.

He stood on the sidewalk waving as the bus started its journey, watching as the only woman he would ever love was cruelly taken away from him.

***

He rolled his neck as he ascended the stairs to his apartment after a long metro ride home from Quantico. He freed his keys from his satchel, fingertips brushing over the worn leather cover of the journal as he did so.

He’d never be that innocent twenty two year old again. But was that really such a bad thing? Maybe JJ was right, he was better at his job, he was a better man now than he had been back then. Getting caught up in this wave of nostalgia was foolish.

Ultimately Spencer knew he wouldn’t go back to that age for all the money in the world. That summer might have been the best of his life, but it wasn’t as though his life had been terrible after that. Things sometimes had a way of working themselves out, the universe had its own plan for everyone.

And despite the trauma thrown his way, the universe hadn’t been entirely merciless towards him.

He found himself smiling for the first time in days as he slotted the key in his apartment door. He’d been thrown a lot of curveballs in his life, dealt a hand that no one person should have to tackle alone.

But then he never really had been alone, had he?

He turned the key and pushed open the door, the light from the lamp next to the couch illuminating the room in the homely glow he loved so much.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee met his nose, wrapping him in its warmth. He smiled brighter, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his satchel. He pulled out the journal and cradled it under his arm. Then he turned towards the couch and the body sat upon it, his smile grew tenfold.

“Welcome home, Doc.”

Get on the bus, it's time to go.

He continued to wave dumbly as the bus got further away, tears streaking down his cheeks and he feared they may never end.

He even kept waving when the bus came to an abrupt stop, even carrying on when the doors swung open and you appeared on the sidewalk.

He finally lowered his hand when you started running towards him, tears rolling from your eyes and a frantic expression on your features.

“You meant it didn’t you? When you asked me to come to DC with you, you meant it. You meant it and I knew you did but I laughed because I was scared.” You spat out, speaking so fast all your words rolled into one.

“I did mean it.” He croaked, scared to reach for you in case you vanished in a puff of smoke. “And I also meant it when I told you I love you.”

“I, uh…” your voice cracked and you scuffed your toe on the concrete. “Would it be utterly crazy if I did come with you to DC?”

“Probably.” He nodded. “Realistically we barely know each other. We might come to find when we learn more about one another that we don’t actually like what we find. Take me, I’m neurotic, I’m a neat freak, a germaphobe. I own too many books, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked, I’m-”

“Spencer?” You chuckled through your tears, cutting him off of his rant.

“I ramble when I’m nervous.” He sighed. “But I do know that I love you. And I’m almost positive that I will love every little thing about you, most likely for the rest of my life. So it is probably crazy of you to come to DC with me, but I hope you do it anyway.”

“Spence?” You smiled, wiping at your tears. “I love you too, and I’m positive I will love every little thing about you too. For the rest of my life.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath of relief and wiped his own tears moments before you fell into his arms and kissed him more fiercely than you ever had before. And you both knew no matter how crazy it was, it also made absolutely perfect sense.

“Good to be home, angel.” He kissed you, wrapping his free arm around your waist to hold you close.

He always did that, despite how many years it had been. Regardless of the fact you’d now been together since you were twenty one years old and he was twenty two, in spite of the fact you’d married him, he always felt the need to keep you as close as humanly possible as though afraid he may lose you like he almost had all those years ago.

“Missed you.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Missed you more.” He replied.

When he broke away from you, your eyes landed on the diary and you laughed, tugging it free of his grip.

“JJ called me this morning and said you’d been pining over this thing.” You ran your fingers over the worn cover.

“Best summer of my life.” He smiled as the two of you sank to the couch.

Spencer wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you nuzzled against him, still toying with the old diary.

“Mine too. But we can’t live in the past forever. And I don’t know about you but I’m pretty happy right here in the present. And I’m certain our future is going to look pretty damn good.” You took his hand in your free one and brought it to your lips so you could place delicate kisses on his knuckles.

He’d been so sure as he watched that bus pull away that he would never see you again, that he had lost a piece of his heart forever. The summer of ‘02 he had met the love of his life and he had counted his lucky stars every day that he was also the love of yours.

You’d stayed by his side through every hurdle. You’d helped him get clean after his addiction which could have torn the two of you apart, held his hand through every single NA meeting and soothed him through withdrawals.

You’d gone to every doctor's appointment with him while he was suffering from debilitating headaches, dried his tears when he thought Emily had died and held his hand at the funeral. You’d felt his anger towards JJ and Hotch when Emily came back from the dead.

You’d done the same when Gideon died, when Morgan left the team and then Hotch. You’d visited him every day in prison and told him on every visit that no matter how long it took you would be waiting for him when he got out.

“Until death do us part, Doc. I didn’t take our vows lightly.”

He held you closer, trying to communicate to you just how much your love and support had meant to him over the years.

“Have I ever thanked you for getting off that bus?” He sighed in content.

“Only every single day since.” You giggled, still after all these years his absolute favourite sound in the world.

He laughed with you, holding you impossibly closer and breathing in the scent of your perfume he still loved so much.

One summer had turned his whole life upside down. One glorious summer changed everything. That summer and the memories the two of you had created would forever live on, even without that old journal. But you were right, he couldn’t live in the past forever, nor would he want to. His present was as close to perfect as it could possibly be.

And even in the coldest depths of winter, you would always be the summer of Spencer Reid’s heart.

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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gunnerfc · 2 months

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One More Chance | Alanna Kennedy x Media!Reader (18+ ish)

Summary: You are a reporter for the upcoming Manchester derby and end up interviewing Alanna, your ex-girlfriend, after the match. It’s the first time you’ve seen her since the breakup and it brings back memories for the both of you.

Warnings: there are allusions to smut and a mention of masturbation but I don’t describe anything but still gave it the mature rating just in case! [angst with a happy ending]

WC: 3.3K

AN: this fic was kicking my ass and for no reason 💀😵‍💫 but to the anon that requested, I hope you enjoy!

Here you were, sitting in the stands watching Manchester City versus Manchester United in the rain. You loved your job, you got to report and interview players for one of the sports you loved watching, and in some cases, you got to travel the world for different games. However, being here in Machester meant the possibility of seeing your ex-girlfriend, Alanna, for the first time since she broke up with you even higher.

You had gone out of your way to avoid her; she had broken your heart, but a small part of you still loved her. Seeing her out on the pitch, playing the sport she loved brought back all the memories of when you would come to support her when you were dating. The rain didn’t make things better, you were wet and uncomfortable and the game still had fifteen minutes left of regulation.

Without realizing it, your eyes naturally found the tall Australian. You watched as she helped the defense keep City’s one-to-zero lead over their rivals, yelling out instructions to the midfield whenever a United player was on the ball. The rain might have been making things worse for you but you enjoyed seeing Alanna playing in the rain, even if you were supposed to be mad at her.

You watched the clock tick down, United was never quite able to capitalize on any of their chances. That is until the eighty-ninth minute when they broke through the high back line of City, but before a shot could be taken, Alanna tackled the ball away, sending it out for a corner. You subconsciously raised your fists with a quiet “yes!” as the City supporters cheered as Alanna’s teammates gave her a quick high-five as they set up to defend the corner.

The ball was delivered into the box perfectly but no one was able to head it into the back of the net before Khiara collected it. The City supporters cheered on their goalkeeper for keeping the ball out of the net to secure the win. Once the ball was back in play, you watched the fourth official hold up their sign signally one minute of stoppage time. You took a deep sigh as you gathered your things to move down to the field for the post-match interview, silently praying that it would be anyone but Alanna that you had to interview.

You watched the last few seconds of the game from the sidelines as your camera team set up near the home bench. The ref blew her whistle after the minute of stoppage time had passed, making Manchester blue. The City players celebrated on the pitch before shaking hands with their opponents and thanking the fans who came to watch. You went over the different questions you wrote in your notes app during the match, not paying attention to who was walking in your direction.

“Y/N, ready to go,” one of your team members asked from behind the camera just as you felt a familiar presence next to you. You didn’t have to look up to know the player that walked over was Alanna.

You cursed under your breath before you looked up to meet her eyes, neither of you made an effort to speak to the other before you heard your team count down to one. You took a deep breath before introducing yourself and Alanna to the camera before turning your body to face her.

Alanna’s eyes were locked on you the entire time you spoke, an arrogant smirk gracing her features as the interview went on. She knew you well enough to know what you were feeling and she’d be lying if seeing you again wasn’t affecting her. Alanna hated breaking up with you but at the time she thought it was the best thing she could have done for the two of you.

“Thank you for your time and congrats on the win,” you offered a fake smile to the camera and Alanna before your team signaled the camera was off.

You wanted to hurry up and get back to your hotel out of the rain and away from the Aussie. Before you could step away from the blonde, her hand reached out to wrap around your wrist to keep you close. You huffed in annoyance as you waited for her to speak, not wanting to hear what she had to say right now. Alanna didn’t give you any closure when she ended the relationship and even though you tried to move on, a part of you did want to hear what she had to say.

“Do you have a few minutes, please, y/n/n,” Alanna mumbled where only you could hear her, your nickname that she gave you falling from her lips effortlessly. You felt your face heat up despite the cold weather conditions hearing the pet name, you were more affected by her than you wanted to believe.

“No, not really,” if you continued to stand here in the rain with the blonde, you were sure someone in the crowd would pick up on it and there would be rumors circulating the internet before you could leave the grounds.

You pulled out of grasp and made your way to the exit with your team, putting as much distance as possible between you and Alanna. The car ride back to the hotel was silent, all of you were over being in the rain and were ready to shower before heading to bed. The whole ride back, your mind replayed some of your best memories with Alanna and you had to fight back tears.

Once you were back at the hotel, you quickly said goodnight to your team before sliding the key card into your door. You dropped all your things on the desk in the room before dropping into the desk chair, tiredness hitting from the long and wet day you had. You let out a small sigh as you rid yourself of the damp clothes and shoes before gathering pajamas to change into after your shower.

In the bathroom, you let the water heat up as you got ready to take a shower. You groaned when the warm water hit your skin, instantly warming you up. You did your shower routine pretty quickly, opting to let the water flow over your body once you were done. You stood under the showerhead with your head tilted back slightly as your thoughts were filled with the intimate moments with Alanna.

You replayed them in your head, each memory a bit dirtier than the last. Your breathing picked up slightly as your hands traced up and down your body. The warm water hit your body as you trailed a hand downward, needing to do something to get rid of the thoughts you were having about your ex-girlfriend.

A few moments later you turned the water off once it became colder and quickly exited the shower to find your towel. You got dressed and did your nighttime routine before leaving the bathroom, ready to fall asleep for the night. You hooked your phone up to the charger on your bedside table before hitting the lights, the only light illuminating the room was the TV.

Laying in bed, you tossed and turned trying to get comfortable but after twenty minutes it was no use. No matter how laid, nothing was comfortable enough to go to sleep. You huffed as you turned to your back, having an intense staring contest with the ceiling. You were ready to get out of Manchester and the quicker you fell asleep, the quicker that could happen. But it didn’t look like luck was on your side after about an hour and a half of not being able to fall asleep.

Your phone on the nightstand dinged with a text notification and you knew exactly who was texting you at this hour. You fought with yourself about whether you should check if you were right or if you should leave it until the morning. Your nosiness won out as you rolled over to turn your phone over, the bright light lighting up most of the room.

With squinted eyes, you saw that you were right. Alanna’s name at the bottom of your screen under the message app staring back at you waiting for a response.

alanna: are you up?

You debated on opening the message, knowing she would be able to see if you read her message. She hadn’t left your mind all day and now here she was at 1 AM asking if you were awake. You knew being in the same city again would make getting over her harder but you didn’t see yourself moving on anytime soon if you were honest.

You sighed as you clicked on the message, opening the app to send her a response.

you: what do you want alanna?

alanna: I need to see you, how far are you

You bit your lip as she replied almost immediately. You could tell her the truth, you weren’t that far from her apartment, or you could lie and tell her that you were nowhere near her and you wouldn't be able to see her.

You went with your heart instead of your brain as you texted her the name of the hotel and its address. You watched as she typed, nerves filling your body as you waited for what she had to say.

alanna: I’ll be there in five mins. be ready

Your eyes widen slightly at her message, you didn’t think she would actually come to get you. You quickly threw the hotel comforter off your body as you jumped up from the bed. You opted to just stay in the sweatpants and t-shirt you were already in but you stopped in your tracks when you realized the baggy shirt you were wearing was Alanna’s. You didn’t have time to try and change when your phone dinged again, Alanna’s text reading she was pulling into the parking lot.

You slipped your shoes on and grabbed your phone along with your hotel key before heading out the door. The entire elevator ride to the lobby you held your breath, you were nervous about being alone with Alanna again, especially after how affected you were at the game.

You spotted the blonde’s car the moment you stepped outside and quickly made your way to the passenger side. You took a deep breath before opening the door and getting in the car, Alanna already looking in your direction.

Neither of you spoke right away, too busy taking each other in. It had been almost a year since you’d seen each other in person and a year apart had been the longest you had ever been apart since you met each other a few years ago.

“Hi,” you both mumbled at the same time earning a small laugh from the both of you.

“I’m sorry for texting so late, I just figured you'd still be awake,” Alanna spoke as she backed out of the parking spot to head toward her apartment building.

“I was, I couldn’t sleep,” you muttered as you kept your eyes on the blonde. You took in her features for the first time in a year, not that you could forget just how good she looked.

“I remember you’re not the biggest fan of hotels,” Alanna said as she sent you a small smile. The blonde was right, you hated sleeping in any bed that wasn’t your own. It seemed like a small thing to remember but you felt your face heat up at the fact she remembered these little things about you.

You responded with a light ‘mhm’ as you watched the dark city pass by. The drive back to Alanna’s apartment was a familiar one and you knew it by heart. The drive back didn’t help in forgetting things that happened in your relationship, each time you passed a place you and Alanna went to on a date, it was all you could think about.

Neither of you spoke the rest of the way there, but both of you were nervous. Your breathing was heavy and Alanna could feel her palms grow sweatier. She didn’t think you would hear her out at this time of day but she was going to take any chance you gave her. The Aussie would be lying if she said she didn’t miss you or regret breaking up with you.

After arriving at the familiar apartment building, you took the elevator in silence, neither of you were sure what to say just yet. Alanna led you down the hallway and every memory you had of the two of you stumbling down the hallway as your lips moved against each other came rushing back. You were upset at the blonde but you needed to feel her lips on yours again.

You waited outside Alanna’s door as she unlocked it, gesturing for you to enter first. Looking around her apartment, you could tell not much as changed, just the little touches of you were gone. You frowned at all the pictures of the two of you not being up anymore, even though you understood why.

“Do you want something to drink or anything,” Alanna called out from the kitchen as you took a seat on her couch.

“Water would be nice,” you yelled back, uncertainty filling your body as you debated on trying to make yourself feel at home or keeping to yourself.

Alanna joined you after a minute, handing you a glass of water as she moved passed you. You mumbled a quiet “thanks” as she took a seat a few inches from you. She knew she should give you some space, but she couldn’t help needing to be close to you again.

“I wanted to explain everything, which I know I should have done a year ago but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Which I know isn’t fair to you,” Alanna rushed out before you could say anything. You didn’t try to interrupt her, you knew once she started talking about something she needed to get all her thoughts out before you should respond.

You slowly nodded your head as you took her words in, waiting for her to continue. Alanna took a deep breath before she spoke again, “I was worried about people finding out about us being together.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, when you went over every possible reason for Alanna breaking up with you, this was not what you were expecting.

Alanna raised her hand slightly as you opened your mouth, telling you to let her finish. “I wasn’t worried about people’s opinions, that doesn’t matter to me. I was worried because I didnt want it to mess up your job, you had just started getting big opportunities and I didnt want people to think it was because you were dating a player. I didn’t want them to question your talents or whether or not you deserved to get those jobs because of your personal life,” the blonde explained as she fiddled with her fingers.

You kept your gaze locked on her side profile as she refused to meet your eyes. Her reasoning was much sweeter than the ones you came up with when you were angry at her a year ago. “You deserved to get those jobs because of your skills, not because of me and I thought breaking up with you would be easier,” she finished as she finally turned to look at you.

“I wish you would have just talked to me, Alanna. I would have understood where you were coming from and we could have talked about it a year ago before all of this,” you sighed. You understood the defender’s explanation but that doesn’t change the fact that you still got your heart broken.

“I know that, but I panicked! I didn’t mean to hurt you, I really didn’t,” Alanna sniffled, you could see in her eyes how much this hurt her as well.

You didn’t respond for a moment as you debated your words, not sure what you wanted to say. You still loved her, nothing would change that and you were glad the breakup wasn’t because of unfaithfulness or anything of that nature. Though, you weren’t sure if you were willing to just jump back into a relationship with the defender.

“I’m glad you told me the truth, even if it was a year later,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood just a bit. Alanna laughed lightly at your words as she nodded softly.

“I would have listened then had you told me how you were feeling, I get where you’re coming from. I think it’s sweet how much you care about my career, but what’s the point if I can’t be with the person I’m in love with,” you declare, your voice strong and unwavering as you slide closer to Alanna.

You took her hands in yours and held them tightly as you kept speaking. “I love you, that hasn't changed in a year and I don't think it ever will. But I don't know if I can just jump back into a relationship if I don't know if you won't talk to me about something before making these big decisions,” you finished as you leaned closer to the Aussie.

“I get that,” Alanna started as she squeezed your hands slightly, “I really do.” Alanna tilted her head up some to give your forehead a small kiss before leaning back some. The blonde used to always give you forehead kisses randomly throughout the day and it used to always make you feel so loved.

“Maybe we start over,” you offered, you weren’t giving up on your relationship, not when you were still in love with her.

“I’d like that,” the blonde spoke with a content sigh but you could tell she wanted to say more.

“But what,” you asked with furrowed brows.

“But, I really want to kiss you right now,” the blonde spoke as her eyes dropped to your lips. You subconsciously liked your eyes as you watched her eyes lock on your lips.

You didn’t respond, instead, you leaned in meeting her lips. Your mouth moved against hers slowly, neither of you wanted to overdo it. A year without kissing her was hell and you missed having her lips on yours.

The kiss would have kept going but a yawn escaped from your lips, breaking the two of you apart. Alanna laughed lightly as you moved one of your hands to cover your mouth, the other hitting her arm lightly.

“What time do you have to leave tomorrow,” Alanna asked as she looked at her phone to check the time.

“We were gonna stay an extra day to make up for the shitty weather so everyone else could explore Manchester,” you said before another yawn hit. You were exhausted and the long day you had was catching up to you.

“You could stay here then, you’d actually get some sleep that way,” Alanna shrugged, knowing that if you went back to the hotel, there was no way you would get a good night’s rest.

“You don’t mind,” you asked, not wanting to overstep.

Alanna rolled her eyes before standing from the couch, offering her hand to pull you up. You let the blonde pull you to her room before you both got under the covers. Without thinking about it, you cuddled into her side, resting your head on her chest as one of her hands wrapped around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Lani,” you mumbled as sleep quickly took over and you were out.

Alanna kissed your forehead before closing her eyes with a small smile on her face. She was glad she was able to explain and that you were willing to give her one more chance. She wasn’t going to mess this one up.

#woso x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #man city women x reader #alanna kennedy x reader #alanna kennedy

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haphazardlyannotated · 1 year

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Sometimes I think about an AU where Harrow's birth didn't require 200 child murders.

Gideon and Harrow probably wouldn't have grown up in each other's pockets the way they did in canon, with 200 other kids around. Still, having only about a hundred kids in their approximate age range (I'm assuming continued births with a similar frequency here) would mean that they'd know each other at least in passing.

Harrow without the crushing guilt of 200 lives on her shoulders would not attempt to open the Locked Tomb, and even if she wanted to, she would be much less likely to happen to have Gideon's blood conveniently on her hands in her attempt, plus Gideon would probably not be following her around to catch her in the act. Though somebody else might, to be fair.

Bottom line is, Harrow's parents are probably still alive. While I'm not sure about the psychological consequences of this, one change that does seem likely is that they might arrange a betrothal for Harrow. We already know from GtN that the only reason Harrow didn't end up engaged to Ortus is that they didn't want to mix up the Reverend Family's and their cavalier's bloodline. So this AU's Harrow is probably engaged to a man (or trans woman), since the Ninth doesn't seem to have the resources for whichever technological advancement on artificial insemnation gave Camilla two dads.

So considering that, in this AU Harrow might be the one with eighty-seven escape attempts.

As for Gideon, even with more potential friends around, chances are good she still wants to join the Cohort. She would probably not experience the same level of alienation and downright hatred as in canon, since Harrow's parents have no reason to freak out about her, but the general culture of the Ninth just isn't a good fit for her. Since Harrow wouldn't be as desperate to keep Gideon specifically on the Ninth, I expect she could just make her intentions to pay off her indentured servitude in the Cohort known, and that would be considered a perfectly fine choice for her career. I expect she'd still train under Aiglamene, but as part of a regular program for Ninth House children with stabby ambitions this time.

Which would be how she and Harrow end up stuck together this time.

When the summon for he house heirs arrives, everyone takes a look at Ortus and goes "...yeah, that won't do." So Aiglamene suggests replacing him with her star pupil, Gideon Nav, who was about to go join the Cohort, but could probably be persuaded to step in as Harrow's cavalier if you offered her a little improvement on the terms of her indentured servitude.

As expected, Gideon receives the offer and goes "Sure, I can swing around a toothpick while Harrow takes her employment test, sounds like a good gig to me. And besides, 'Cavalier Primary' would look good on my resumée for the Cohort."

When they reach Canaan House, Harrow still hopes to restore the Ninth House to its former glory, but more importantly, she is desperate to escape her arranged marriage, especially since her eighteenth birthday is alarmingly close and Ortus just stopped being her cavalier.

Gideon meanwhile enjoys sword fighting, actual flavour in her food, and looking at hot women.

Harrow: Are you taking this seriously?

Gideon: Of course I am! I get five years off my contract for this! I'm just saying, what's the harm in having some fun while we're here?

Harrow: If I fail to become a Lyctor, I will have to marry Ortus.

Gideon: *shudders* Fair enough.

Overall, the setting is more of a romantic comedy with the projected ending of the Reverend Daughter scandalously eloping with her cavalier- until the first murders, that is.

Due to Griddlehark not having seventeen years worth of reasons to go for the worst faith interpretation of each other's actions, and Harrow being at least a little less paranoid, they're able to work together with less conflict. However, Harrow doesn't have convenient puppet parents at home to help her realise that the Seventh cavalier is a beguiling corpse, so the net result could easily be the same. The biggest potential difference I can think of is that Harrow wouldn't try to send Gideon away with Jeannemary and Isaac. Since I like the Fourth House babies, I'm going to declare two murders less here.

Overall though, I don't see any clear options here that don't end with Gideon dead on a fence again.

The big difference would be her perception of HtN.

In this AU, Gideon's relationship with Harrow isn't tainted with obsessive hate-love masked as indifference on Harrow's side. This AU's Gideon sees her relationship with Harrow as a spicy forbidden romance, and therefore ironically interprets Harrow's lobotomy much more accurately than canon Gideon, who has been joined at the hip to her Harrow for as long as she can remember, and I'd love to see how that would change her character in HtN and NtN.

Canon Gideon gives us the beautiful, heartbreaking "I gave you my whole life and you didn't even want it" combined with "She can be in hell for all I care, I just need to know where" for the two hit kill.

This Gideon on the other hand knows that Harrow would have married her given the chance and 'only' has to think about how Harrow might have died to save her.

Which raises the question of where Harrow's soul ends up in a world where she never entered the Locked Tomb. My personal theory is that, with no link to Alecto's body, Harrow is pulled back into her own body after Gideon's soul leaves it. Then we get Harrow stuck on New Rho with Pyrrha, Camilla and Palamedes, and Gideon with Jod and Ianthe, both of them desperately trying to find each other.

When Harrow sees the broadcast, she immediately marches to the Compound, blasts open the door and demands to see her girlfriend.

A few days later, the Ninth House receives another letter from the First, informing them that their Reverend Daughter is not a Lyctor anymore, but will wed the Emperor's daughter as soon as he can stay sober through the ceremony.

The End.

#tlt #the locked tomb #gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #griddlehark #my stuff #plot bunny up for adoption

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queenie-blackthorn · 7 months

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tips for writing muslim characters

except im a muslim, born and raised

dont mix it up with arab characters, yes a muslim can be arab and muslim but theres a difference. the link to my post abt writing arabs is here

first and foremost, not all muslims are arabs, and not all arabs are muslims. yes, most terminology and the holy book is in arabic, but that doesnt mean its exclusively arabs

indonesia (not an arab country) has the highest population of muslims worldwide

the arab country with the most christians is egypt, but the arab country with the highest population of christians is lebanon

not all practicing muslim women wear hijab (some extremely religious women might not wear a hijab)

five prayers a day: fajr (before sunrise), zuhr (midday), asr (afternoon), maghreb/maghrib (sunset), ishaa (nighttime)

call to prayer is known as 'azan', you can listen to it on youtube

muslims use the lunar calendar (known as the hijri calendar), which also has 12 months but its around two weeks shorter than the gregorian calendar. most people only remember the ninth month: ramadan

fasting consists of not eating/drinking from fajr until maghrib. you stop as soon as the azan for fajr sounds, and you can start again as soon as the azan for maghrib sounds. you fast for the entire month of ramadan, but its also encouraged to fast on mondays, thursdays, and the 14th/15th/16th days of each month of the hijri calendar

allah isnt the name of god. allah is the arabic word for 'god'

women dont have to cover up completely until puberty, athough some girls cover up before then and other women dont cover up at all

women can be religious and not cover up

the word 'hijab' doesnt show up in the quran, its 'khimar'. hijab is to cover up completely, not just hair. you cant wear a headscarf with a short sleeved shirt

men have to cover up too. from their navel to their knees absolutely has to be covered up, and (in most islamic cultures, not necessarily exactly religious) they cover up their chests as well

also men are told to avert their gazes from women more than women are told to cover up. youd find a lot of men in muslim countries not looking up from the floor when walking, especially in areas w a lot of women

kids by the age of eight can usually recite at least four chapters from the quran (the first one and the last three, mostly. it doesnt matter if theyre not arab)

if you want to use verses from the quran for whatever reason, i recommend quran.com

theres only one version of the quran. the same copy thats existed for 1400 years and millions of people have memorized it

on that note, people who memorize the quran are called hafiz, and there isnt a particular age. theres a three year old hafiz and a woman who didnt memorize it until age eighty three

there are two different sources for islamic law: the quran (holy book), and hadith (quotes of the prophet). dua' is completely different, its a prayer used to ask help from god, but unlike the five prayers, it doesnt really require a specific ritual. you just sit, face the direction of mecca, and say the dua'

superstitions are haram, but muslims do believe in black magic (its sihr in arabic and its one of the biggest sins) and djinn (there are djinn muslims but theyre widely regarded somewhat like monsters who encourage/help you to do black magic)

allahu akbar means "god is greater" or "god is the greatest". it isnt used as a signal to blow people up, and it isnt a term used purely by islam extremists

assalamu aleikum / waaleikum assalam mean, respectively, "peace be upon you" and "and peace be upon you too" basically just our way of just saying "hi" along with the reply

subhanallah means "glory be to god" usually when witnessing a miracle or when amazed

mashaallah - there arent any exact english equivalents but it means "what god wills". usually for compliments or to protect someone from evil eye

insha'allah - simply "god willing" but we use this when talking about the future (like "will you come to school?" "insha'allah" or "we'll get the gift, right?" "insha'allah"). can be replaced by the lesser used "bi'ithn illah"

alhamdu lillah - "praise be to god" or "thanks be to god. used in the way you might imagine, but also as a way to express that youre doing fine. "how are you doing today, sister?" "alhamdu lillah" (also when finishing a meal / finishing drinking water)

astaghfir ullah - "i seek forgiveness from god" whenever we see someone do something haram or when we ourselves do something haram and wish to repent

bismillah - "in the name of god" we use this whenever we begin something. a lot of arab literature starts with this. every chapter im the quran starts with this. every meal starts with saying this before eating

you can submit asks if you have any questions, but try to be a lil specific !!

feel free to rb with more info :)

#writing tips #muslim #writing muslims #writer sources #writing help #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing advice

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femalecelebrityoftheday · 2 months

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Tuesday's female celebrity of the day is Emma Roberts. If you've been following me for a long time, you'll know Emma is one of my most posted girls ever. She hasn't appeared as much lately but she is well and truly back after this dress! And possibly better than ever. This is the eighty ninth time she's been FCOTD.

#emma roberts #female celebrity

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balkanradfem · 4 months

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"Growing flax to make linen was one of the oldest human activities in Europe, particularly in the Rhineland. Archeologists have found linen textiles among the settlements of Neolithic cultivators along the shores of Lake Neuchâtel in the Jura Mountains west of Bern, Switzerland. These were elaborate pieces: Stone Age clothmakers of the Swiss lakeshores sewed pierced fruit pits in a careful line into a fabric with woven stripes. The culture spread down the Rhine and into the lowland regions.

The Roman author Pliny observed in the first century AD that German women wove and wore linen sheets. By the ninth century flax had spread through Germany. By the sixteenth century, flax was produced in many parts of Europe, but the corridor from western Switzerland to the mouth of the Rhine contained the oldest region of large-scale commercial flax and linen production. In the late Middle Ages the linen of Germany was sold nearly everywhere in Europe, and Germany produced more linen than any other region in the world.

At this juncture, linen weavers became victims of an odd prejudice. “Better skinner than linen weaver,” ran one cryptic medieval German taunt. Another macabre popular saying had it that linen weavers were worse than those who “carried the ladders to the gallows.” The reason why linen weavers were slandered in this way, historians suspect, was that although linen weavers had professionalized and organized themselves into guilds, they had been unable to prevent homemade linen from getting onto the market. Guilds appeared across Europe between the twelfth and fifteenth centuries but many of the items they produced for exchange, like textiles and soap, were also produced at home right up through the nineteenth century. The intricate regulations of the guilds—determining who could join, how they would be trained, what goods they would produce, and how these could be exchanged—were mainly designed to distinguish guild work from this homely labor. That linen making continued to be carried out inside of households—a liability for guilds in general—lent a taint to the linen guild in particular.

In the seventeenth century, guilds came under pressure from a new, protocapitalist mode of production. Looking for cheaper cloth to sell on foreign markets, entrepreneurs cased the Central European countryside offering to pay cash to home producers for goods. Rural households became export manufacturing centers and a major source of competition with the guilds. These producers could undercut the prices of urban craftsmen because they could use the unregulated labor of their family members, and because their own agricultural production allowed them to sell their goods for less than their subsistence costs.

The uneasiness between guild and household production in the countryside erupted into open hostility. In the 1620s, linen guildsmen marched on villages, attacking competitors, and burning their looms. In February 1627 Zittau guild masters smashed looms and seized the yarn of home weavers in the villages of Oderwitz, Olbersdorf, and Herwigsdorf.

Guilds had long worked to keep homemade products from getting on the market. In their death throes, they hit upon a new and potent weapon: gender. Although women in medieval Europe wove at home for domestic consumption, many had also been guild artisans. Women were freely admitted as masters into

the earliest medieval guilds, and statutes from Silesia and the Oberlausitz show that women were master weavers. Thirteenth-century Paris had eighty mixed craft guilds of men and women and fifteen female-dominated guilds for such trades as gold thread, yarn, silk, and dress manufacturing. Up until the mid-seventeenth century, guilds had belittled home production because it was unregulated, nonprofessional, and competitive. In the mid-seventeenth century this work was identified as women’s work, and guildsmen unable to compete against cheaper household production tried to eject women from the market entirely. Single women were barred from independent participation in the guilds. Women were restricted to working as domestic servants, farmhands, spinners, knitters, embroiderers, hawkers, wet nurses. They lost ground even where the jobs had been traditionally their own, such as ale brewing and midwifery, by the end of the seventeenth century.

The wholesale ejection of women from the market during this period was achieved not only through guild statute, but through legal, literary, and cultural means. Throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries women lost the legal right to conduct economic activity as femes soles. In France they were declared legal “imbeciles,” and lost the right to make contracts or represent themselves in court. In Italy, they began to appear in court less frequently to denounce abuses against them. In Germany, when middle-class women were widowed it became customary to appoint a tutor to manage their affairs. As the medieval historian Martha Howell writes, “Comedies and satires of this period…often portrayed market women and trades women as shrews, with characterizations that not only ridiculed or scolded them for taking on roles in market production but frequently even charged them with sexual aggression.” This was a period rich in literature about the correction of errant women: Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew (1590–94), John Ford’s ’Tis Pity She’s a Whore (1629–33), Joseph Swetnam’s “The Araignment of Lewde, Idle, Froward, and Unconstant Women” (1615). Meanwhile, Protestant reformers and Counter-Reformation Catholics established doctrinally that women were inherently inferior to men.

This period, called the European Age of Reason, successfully banished women from the market and transformed them into the sweet and passive beings that emerged in Victorian literature. Women accused of being scolds were paraded in the streets wearing a new device called a “branks,” an iron muzzle that depressed the tongue. Prostitutes were subjected to fake drowning, whipped, and caged. Women convicted of adultery were sentenced to capital punishment.

As a cultural project, this was not merely recreational sadism. Rather, it was an ideological achievement that would have lasting and massive economic consequences. Political philosopher Silvia Federici has argued this expulsion was an intervention so massive, it ought to be included as one of a triptych of violent seizures, along with the Enclosure Acts and imperialism, that allowed capitalism to launch itself.

Part of why women resisted enclosure so fiercely was because they had the most to lose. The end of subsistence meant that households needed to rely on money rather than the production of agricultural goods like cloth, and women had successfully been excluded from ways to earn. As labor historian Alice Kessler-Harris has argued, “In pre-industrial societies, nearly everybody worked, and almost nobody worked for wages.” During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, monetary relations began to dominate economic life in Europe. Barred from most wage work just as the wage became essential, women were shunted into a position of chronic poverty and financial dependence. This was the dominant socioeconomic reality when the first modern factory, a cotton-spinning mill, opened in 1771 in Derbyshire, England, an event destined to upend still further the pattern of daily life."

- Sofi Thanhauser, Worn: A People's History of Clothing

#radical feminism #feminism #linen #history of clothing #sexism #female oppression #the rights they TOOK from us #i'm so pissed #i knew there would be misogyny in history of clothing #but this made my blood burn #Sofi Thanhauser

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beansoup3000 · 11 months

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Eighty pages into Nona the Ninth and this is delightful. There's a character named Hot Sauce. There's a found family composed of three physical bodies but between four and six souls (depending on how/what you count). The POV character is a hot six month old. There are intermittent crumbs of chapters titled with auspicious bible verses. Once again there is Plot Happening but the POV character isn't privy to that information. She was called a "worm with problems". The biggest thing she's got going on is being in awe of Hot Sauce and hanging out with a six legged dog. They're getting funky with gender. Is necromancy bad, actually?

#nona the ninth #the locked tomb #biiiig tone shift from both Gideon and Harrow and im here for it

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mercymornsimpathizer · 2 months

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yk over the past couple months ive gotta a lot of notes on that one post saying that actually gideon never really wanted freedom, all she ever wanted was harrow, harrow's love or at least attention. which is understandable ig considering that gideon herself claims that! but man i just cannot believe that's true. i mean -- eighty six escape attempts! she got the depression! she has harrow's attention and she's miserable, she hates the ninth so much that she insists that even harrow is only pretending at her devotion to it. yes gtn is about gideon and harrow learning to trust and cooperate with each other but its also about gideon's indoctrination into a corrupt system that alienates her from her self and her desires

#like i cannot read the first part of gtn and think she didnt really want to be free #sry!#gtn #gideon the ninth #gideon nav #etc etc etc

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leclerc-s · 7 months

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honest series timeline

(white events indicate an official date, blue events indicate no official date, red indicates which events have corresponding parts)

1989

july first: daniel ricciardo's birth december thirteenth: daphne jones' birth

1994

september first: carlos sainz's birth

1996

february seventh: pierre gasly's birth

1997

march second: penelope trevino's birth september thirtieth: max verstappen's birth october sixteenth: charles leclerc's birth december eleventh: rowan todd's birth

1998

june sixteenth: natalia ruiz's birth

1999

may eleventh: mae jones' birth march twenty-second: mick schumacher's birth november thirteenth: lando norris' birth

2000

october fourteenth: arthur leclerc's birth november twenty-first: freya vettel's birth december thirty-first: logan sargeant's birth

2001

april sixth: oscar piastri's birth july tenth: dulce perez's birth september seventh: bailey winter's birth

2002

january twentieth: isabella perez's birth february twentieth: zoya torres' birth trevino family moves to madrid, spain first meeting between penelope and carlos

2003

first meeting between natalia and charles

2004

2005

freya's adoption

2006

october twenty-fourth: daphne's debut album release

2007

2008

november eleventh: fearless release

2009

september thirteenth: daphne gets interrupted by kanye west at the vma's

2010

twenty-fifth: speak now release

2011

july tenth: daniel ricciardo's debut grand prix

2012

october twenty-second: red release

2013

2014

june twenty-seventh: mae's debut in girl meets world october twenty-seventh: nineteen eighty-nine release

2015

march fifteenth: max verstappen and carlos sainz's debut grand prix april fifteenth: eyes wide open release mae and max begin dating first meeting between daniel and daphne

2016

february twelfth: kanye west releases famous february fifteenth: daphne seemingly shades kanye west at an award show july sixteenth: kim kardashian releases video footage of kanye's phone call with daphne, daphne issues a statement defending herself after the leaked call september twenty-eight: daphne and daniel begin secretly dating october fourteenth: evolution release october twenty-third: daphne performs after the us grand prix mae and max break-up

2017

daphne disappears for a year august twenty-third: daphne announces reputation october first: pierre gasly's debut grand prix november tenth: reputation release

2018

march twenty-first charles leclerc's debut grand prix november ninth: singular act i release natalia and charles' friends with benefits relationship begins

2019

pierre and rowan's situationship begins march sixteenth: lando norris' debut grand prix june thirtieth: scooter braun purchases daphne's masters july first: lover release july nineteenth: singular act ii release september thirtieth: seven release (see seven for further info) november twelfth: zoya's debut on high school musical: the musical: the series

2020

january thirty-first: miss americana release march twenty: the entire phone call between daphne and kanye get leaked july twenty-fourth: folklore release december eleventh: evermore release daniel and joshua reunite mae and max

2021

lando and bailey's fake relationship begins april ninth: fearless (daphne's version) release march twenty-eighth: mick schumacher's debut grand prix may twenty-first: sour release september: filming for daisy jones and the six begins november twelfth: red (daphne's version) release mae and max begin dating again

2022

march: filming for daisy jones and the six wraps natalia becomes pregnant july fifteenth: emails i can't send release september twenty-eighth: daphne and daniel get married october twenty-first: midnights release pierre and rowan accidentally get married in vegas september twenty-eighth: daniel and daphne get married november twentieth: sebastian vettel's final race

2023

january seventeenth: baby leclerc is born rumors of daphne and fernando dating begin (see the daphlonso scandal for further info) lando accidentally leaks daphne and daniel's secret relationship during a livestream (see the daphlonso scandal for further info) march fifth: logan sargeant and oscar piastri's debut grand prix march seventeenth: daphne's eras tour kicks off and emails i can't send fwd release mae and max get secretly married the first meeting between logan and zoya july seventh: speak now (daphne's version) release july eleventh: daniel replaces nyck de vries at alphatauri august twenty-third: mae and max's familial wedding party september eighth: guts release october twenty-seventh: nineteen eighty-nine (daphne's version) release november 11th: daphne's famous line change, "karma is the guy on the track" (see karma is the guy on the track for further info) november fifteenth: mae and max's vegas wedding party (see what happens in vegas never stays in vegas for further info)

2024

january 25th: charles leclerc extends his contract with ferrari for a disclosed amount of time (see divorcegate for further info) january 26th: lando norris extends his contract with mclaren for a disclosed amount of time (see divorcegate for further info) february 1st: lewis hamilton announces his departure from mercedes, and announces his multi-year contract with ferrari. (see divorcegate for further info) february 4th: the 66th annual grammys, daphne announces her new album, the tortured poets department ( see let him be a trophy husband! for further info) march 2nd: the 75th formula one season begins. april 19th: the tortured poets department release

… more events to be added

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