#Here are a few of my favourite approximations

[justactgaussian]

[lisafication]

This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game. 

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her! 

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling. 

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?! 

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle! 

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to. 

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him. 

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

[magicalrocketships]

Daniel is not special!!! I am also fucked up over de-aged max 😭😭

And sometimes Daniel is very fucked up. All earlier parts can be found in this masterpost and on AO3 here (I was planning on putting the outstanding ones on AO3 tonight, but I'll do it over the next couple of days instead, including this part).

This sort of follows on from Waking Up and Max is big again.

It's You And Me (I Know It's My Destiny): In which Daniel is sad, and Max and Daniel go on holiday (this part 2.9k)

"I have sand in my shoe," Max says. 

"You can't have sand in your shoe," Daniel says, because they have been out of the car approximately 36 seconds and the beach is still the other side of the car park. All Max has stood on is the gravel next to the car. His Pikachu trainers are still tightly laced up. 

"I can," Max says. He's not been enthusiastic about this beach trip from the moment Daniel's mum suggested it. He plays with the handle on the car door as if that's miraculously going to unlock it again and let him get back inside. 

"You'll like it when we get there," Daniel says, sounding like his mum and her mum and probably every mum in the history of his family. 

"Hmmm," Max says. "When are we going home?"

There's a strange little pull in Daniel's chest. Home. Max talks about home like it's a plant with Daniel's flat in Monaco the root and wherever Daniel is right now the leafy green. His favourite thing is when they're all together, but he'll take being with Daniel so long as going home is also on the cards.

"Later on," Daniel says. "We've got some fun to have first. We can go in the sea."

Max looks decidedly dubious. "There might be sharks."

"We won't swim if there's sharks," Daniel says. He rifles through his mental compendium of fun things they can do on the beach today. "There's tomato soup?" he offers. He's got a flask of it in his bag. He's learned. "And you can take pictures with my camera."

Max blinks at him. Unimpressed. 

"My mum and dad will be here soon," Daniel says, desperate. "You can tell them all the facts out of your flag book."

"All of them?" Max asks. 

"All of them," Daniel agrees. "Come on."

"Hmm," Max says, but he slips his hand into Daniel's. 

&&&

Daniel finally acknowledges that he's hungry, so he gets out of bed and goes into the kitchen to find something to eat. It has been a week since his last supermarket delivery, and four days since he woke up to find Max gone, big again, disappeared back to a life which doesn't involve Daniel in any real way. There are apples slowly going soft in the bowl. Max likes apples. He likes them cut into slices with the core cut out. Depending on how crunchy the apple is, sometimes he likes the skin cut off. He doesn't like them when they're soft. Daniel can't be bothered to eat them, so he leaves them in the bowl. The fridge doesn't contain anything useful either, and the bread's gone bad. He stands in front of the kitchen cupboard with the crackers in and eats three of them. He follows it up with a packet of dried vegetable snack food for toddlers, significantly out of date, from when a tiny chunky three year old Max came to stay. He drinks a can of Red Bull looking at the empty cat litter trays. He needs to sweep the few remaining bits of litter up and take the bin out. 

He doesn't do it. He finishes his can of Red Bull, goes for a piss, and climbs back into bed again with the covers over his head. 

He hasn't showered in four days. He hasn't eaten a proper meal in five. He closes his eyes, buries his face in the pillows, and ignores the buzzing of his phone. 

&&&

"I'm not jumping in."

"Okay," Daniel says, zooming in on a picture of the pool. "You don't have to jump."

After their relatively unsuccessful beach day, Daniel drops the idea of renting a beach house for his parents and Max for the remainder of their trip to Monaco, and instead, goes for a gîte up in the hills. It has a pool and a pétanque court and somewhere to play badminton. It has two bedrooms up in the attics, which Daniel plans on claiming for him and Max, and one downstairs with a massive bathroom for his parents. The local village boasts two specialist bakeries. Daniel hopes they're specialised enough to do a boring sliced loaf for Max to have buttered on a daily basis. 

"You won't make me jump in?" Max asks, pressing himself to Daniel's side. He's so close that Daniel might require a spatula to get them apart. He's looking at the pictures of the gîte on Daniel's laptop. It's a last minute booking; they leave in the morning. 

"Promise," Daniel says. He hasn't actually asked if Max knows how to swim, so his mum and dad have got floats on their shopping list just in case. They've gone out to buy last minute things for their holiday tomorrow.. 

"There's no sand?" Max asks, leaning over and digging his elbows into Daniel's thigh so he can get a closer look at the pictures. 

"Not by the pool," Daniel says. 

"I don't like sand," Max says, which is something Daniel knows, after Max had refused to touch it at the beach. "I don't like it in my shoes."

Daniel ruffles his hair. "No beach trips. I know. There is a train, though. We can go for a ride on it if you like." 

"At the house?" Max asks dubiously. 

"No, we'll have to drive to it. We can take my mum and dad."

"Yes, please," Max says. "Are the Jimmy or Sassy cats coming on holiday with us too?" 

"They're going on their own holiday." A fucking expensive one too, at a luxury cat hotel. Cat ownership, even of the temporary variety associated with Go Small guardianship, is tremendously expensive. They've got the 'getting the cats into their multi storey cat carrier' experience to have later on too. They cats have clearly spotted the cat carrier and are sitting on top of the cupboards in Daniel's kitchen in protest. Daniel foresees a number of new scratches later on. A little pre-holiday gift.

"Will they poo in the cat carrier again?" Max maintains this is the funniest thing that has ever happened in his life, even beating the noises the camel made at the zoo, which he asks Daniel to imitate about three times a day. 

"Probably," Daniel says grimly. 

"Good," Max says. He leans his face against Daniel's shoulder. "Can we take the night lights? In case you are scared, Daniel."

Daniel kisses the top of his head. "Sure," he says. "We can walk around the flat and you can tell me all the important things we should take."

"Good," Max says. He's a solemn little boy sometimes, quiet and thoughtful and terribly protective of Daniel. Daniel is equally protective in return. "Pikachu won't get lost if he comes, will he?"

"No," Daniel says. "He can wear his own seatbelt in the car."

Max nods. "Good," he says. Then, "Let's pack now."

"Sure," Daniel says, who's never packed anything early in his life. "It'll be a fun surprise for my mum and dad if they come home and we're all ready to go."

&&&

The sound of the key in the lock should rouse him out of bed, but it doesn't. He's not expecting anyone, but if they've got a key it can't be all bad. Anyway, he can't be bothered to care. 

He stays where he is, in bed, and waits for whoever it is to come and find him. To tell him what they need from him. It won't be a seven year old Max come to visit, so it doesn't matter anyway. 

"Daniel?"

It's his mum. She's supposed to be in Australia. She isn't supposed to be here. He would have remembered that. 

She pushes open the door to his bedroom. It smells in here. It's been six days since he showered. He's eaten the remains of the stale crackers and there's crumbs on the sheets and on the floor. 

"Oh, Daniel," she says. 

"Hi, Mum," he says. She looks sad, and worried, but Daniel doesn't feel anything. He's had a hole in his chest for a long time now, and it's grown every time Max got big and left him again, and getting to have a Go Small Max all over again and then losing him like clockwork has just meant the hole has swallowed him up. "Did I know you were coming?"

"You didn't answer your phone," she says, coming over and sitting on the bed. He moves his legs to let her sit down. "We've all been very worried about you."

Daniel hums. "It's okay," he says, although it seems like a long way to come just because she's worried about him. He's fine. "I'm just tired."

"Okay," she says. "Can I get a hug?"

She must have been travelling a long time. Daniel hugs her. He can smell himself, warm and stale and tired. She seems upset. Maybe he should be upset too. He just misses Max. He wants Max back. 

She picks Pikachu up from the floor and brushes cracker crumbs off him. She tucks him up in bed next to Daniel. "I'm going to go see what's in your fridge, and then I'll come back and run you a bath, okay? We'll get you fixed up, Daniel, I promise."

Daniel nods. He just wants to sleep. He settles down into his sheets again, pulling Pikachu in close. He smells like Max. One day he won't, and Max won't Go Small again, and Pikachu will be all that's left of the months Max spent with him, small and serious and perfect. 

His mum leans over and kisses him on the forehead. "Love you," she says. 

Daniel closes his eyes. 

&&&

Max stands on the side of the pool. Daniel's in the water, doing a very stupid dance. He's singing along, making up the words as he goes along. Max tells him he's being very silly. 

Daniel agrees. They've been here two days so far and they've barely been out of the water. They've splashed and played and made up stupid games and done piggy back rides and played water badminton and piggy in the middle and had races where the point was to come last and Max has been happy the whole time. They've blown up stupid floats and ridden a giant flamingo and floated on a palm tree and paddled a boat. He suspects his parents haven't spent this much time in a pool in their lives. 

They've made their excuses now, though, his dad getting the barbecue ready for dinner and his mum reading her book and taking a million pictures and videos of Daniel and Max together. 

Daniel's heart sings. Max is having such a good time. He'd spent about 25 minutes in his own bed on the first night, and then gravitated straight into Daniel's, Daniel coming upstairs to bed to find Max sprawled out sideways, flat out, with Pikachu in one hand and his toy otter tucked under his other arm. The nightlights were on in both rooms. Daniel had resigned himself to sleeping in Max's bed until he'd managed about seven minutes sleep and Max was waking him up because Daniel would get scared if he slept by himself. Max had assigned himself Daniel's protector a long time ago and wasn't going anywhere. So, Daniel had the edge of the bed and Max had the remaining diagonal space, and everyone was happy (but mainly Max). 

And now Max wants to jump in. He's practiced putting his head below the water, which he didn't like the first time and is now better at. Daniel's told him it doesn't matter if he decides he doesn't want to, but Max is brave and resilient and trying his best. And Daniel's ready to catch him. His mum's got the camera ready, and his dad's cheering Max on. 

"Will you catch me?" Max asks. 

"I won't let anything happen to you," Daniel says. "I promise."

Max studies his face. "Okay," he says finally. He puffs out his cheeks and jumps. 

Afterwards, when Daniel's finished parading a cheering Max up and down the pool, his mum shows them the pictures. Max is beaming. Daniel doesn't think he's ever seen a picture of himself looking happier. 

It's scary, if he stops to think about it. But he doesn't, so it's okay. 

&&&

Daniel eats a sandwich and then has a bath. He can barely find the energy to wash his hair. When he gets out, the water's gone cold and his mum's put fresh pyjamas on the chair by the bathroom door. She's changed the sheets too, swapped Daniel's gross ones for fresh ones. She's even folded up Max's Pokemon blanket that Daniel's been hugging all week and put it at the end of the bed. The window's open and the curtains are pulled back. Pikachu isn't on his pillow anymore, because Max is sitting on his bed, holding him. 

He's not small. He's big. He's just Max, normal sized, world champion Max. 

Daniel gets back into bed. He takes Pikachu from Max and tucks him under his chin. 

"Daniel," Max says. 

"I'm tired," Daniel says. Max doesn't ever stay. He gets big and he leaves. He stops needing Daniel and he leaves. 

Max's hand hovers over Daniel's arm. It rests on his elbow. "You didn't say you were not okay, Daniel."

"I'm fine," Daniel says. "Just tired. What are you doing here? You don't stay here when you're big."

Max flinches. Daniel feels it.

"I think I should not have left you," Max says. "But I am here now. Your mum has gone to the shop. You do not have any food."

"I'm not hungry," Daniel says. He doesn't feel anything. He misses Max. Max is here and he still misses Max, his Max, the one who needs him. "I want to sleep."

"Okay, Daniel," Max says. "Then I will stay here with you. So you are not alone."

Daniel nods. He doesn't believe it. Max always leaves. He takes his cats and his things and leaves a big hole behind him, and Daniel's chest swallows it up. He gets emptier. He feels empty now. "You won't stay," he says. "You don't stay."

"I will," Max says. "I will look after you. I am going to help your mum."

Daniel closes his eyes. He's tired. He'll wake up and Max will be gone. It's okay. He's good at losing him now. He'll cope. 

He sleeps. 

&&&

Max jumps in and he jumps in and he jumps in. He's delighted, excited, happy. He jumps in without Daniel holding out his hands to catch him, and lets Daniel float off to the side and just cheer him on in instead. 

Afterwards, still excited, he wears his special robe to sit next to Daniel by the side of the pool and demands Daniel's mum show them both all her pictures. Daniel, in his matching robe, sits through picture after picture of the two of them together, of Max beaming, of Daniel beaming back. Of them beaming at each other. 

Max is happy enough only to complain a little bit when Daniel reapplies sun cream to Max's flushed face. When Daniel's mum goes to help with dinner, Max buries himself in Daniel's side. 

"I love you," Max whispers, like it's a secret. He tilts his face up and kisses Daniel's cheek. 

Daniel wraps an arm around his shoulders. He kisses the top of Max's head. "Love you more," he says. 

Max shakes his head. He's steadfast. He loves Daniel the most. He can't conceive otherwise. But it's okay. Daniel knows the truth: there's no one in this world he loves more. 

&&&

When Daniel wakes up, he knows Max will be gone. He'll have left again, gone home, gone to find his real life, the one that Daniel isn't a part of. The one where he isn't needed. 

Daniel doesn't open his eyes. He can hear his mum in the kitchen. He recognises her tread, the soft sound of the radio. He recognises her. 

If he opens his eyes, Max will be gone. 

"It is okay, Daniel." It's Max. He's here. He's stroking Daniel's hair. "Your mum is here and I am here. I'm not going anywhere."

Daniel swallows. He opens his eyes. Pikachu is still tucked into bed with him, the sheets pulled up over his shoulders. Max is lying next to him. 

"I didn't want you to wake up alone," Max tells him. He's still stroking Daniel's hair. He's not very good at it. He's a little awkward and unsure, but Max doesn't stop something if he doesn't know what he's doing. He just keeps on going. 

Daniel trembles. 

"It's our turn to look after you," Max says. "We will get you better, Daniel. We'll make everything okay. I promise."

Daniel—who is desperate, exhausted, and scared—clutches at Max's hand. 

Max laces his fingers with Daniel's. He leans in to kiss Daniel's forehead, and Daniel—that hollow in his chest suddenly aching, and he's breathless, his hand hot in Max's—abruptly starts to cry. 

&&&

"Are you enjoying your holiday, Max?" Daniel's dad asks. 

Max looks up from his new book of cat facts. He's been laboriously sounding out names of cat breeds to Daniel for half an hour. 

"It's my best holiday ever," Max says in satisfaction. 

He tucks his hand into Daniel's, looks up, and beams. 

(thanks to Zoe @flawlessassholes for her help with the first 7/8ths of this and to Lin @andwegogreen for her help)

[tiredspacedragon]

Hello. I am here to inflict you with my thoughts on how each Ga-Toa exits the water.

Gali: Incapable of leaving the water normally. Always bursts out with a leap or does a flip or scales a cliff on her way out. She'd never admit it, but it's her way of showing off. Water runs seamlessly off her armour and she always seems to be as dry as she wishes to be just a few steps from the shore.

Nokama: Canonically does the Hollywood-style sexy water exit. I don't make the rules. (As a Hordika she absolutely shook the water off herself like a dog though. Got it everywhere, including all over Gaaki)

Hahli: Steps out smoothly and lightly shakes the water off herself. As a Toa Mahri her fins flutter as she does it, and it's quite the pretty sight. (In contrast to her brothers, who always trudge out of the water looking miserable)

Gaaki: Carries herself to shore with a small wave and lands with a few jogging steps. She lamented the loss of this graceful exit while a Rahaga but learned to approximate it with natural waves from studying semi-aquatic Rahi.

Naho: Hoists herself out of the water and rarely misses the opportunity to have fun with it. A favourite game of hers is to use her mask power to turn invisible, leaving the water droplets clinging to her armour appearing as though they are hanging in the air in her rough shape, like some sort of moisture ghost. She has also been known to use her powers to pull the water off herself while retaining her shape, then have the water-Naho follow her around while she pantomimes conversations with it. She finds this hilarious. Her teammates find it kind of bizarre.

Tuyet: Creates a rising swell in her path as she emerges. Upon exiting the water, she uses her mask power to become intangible and just dumps all the water covering her at once, then continues on.

Helryx: Hasn't swam in years. Her old Toa body is still capable of it, but is a little too frail for that kind of extended athleticism anymore. If she needs to cross a body of water, she either goes by boat, or the water gets out of the way.

[suniloli]

JUST FOR KICKS

29 May 2024

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: approximately 3 swear words, sexual innuendo, fluff

Setting: Prison (between s3-4)

Summary: Today’s weather was perfect for an impromptu prison soccer match. Prison goers — children, adults and spectators alike — become involved, including an enthusiastic you and uncharacteristically playful Daryl.

Author Note: Finally back from my 3000 year hiatus!!!! Here’s a little piece I wanted to get out before I lost it. This is more of an innocent one that I wanted to write (although it’s SUPER predictable ….) I hope the POV jumps are easily followable. Am working on another Daryl fic atm. Enjoy! - Sól

The gorgeous spring sun in the sky and the soft warm breeze were the perfect conditions to be outside and enjoying life. Well, what ‘life’ you could experience within the prison’s metal fences in the middle of an apocalypse anyways. 

This sort of weather was your favourite. It reminded you of your sporting days before walkers came to be, especially the excitement you felt before your games where you’d soak up the sun and let it fuel your competitiveness. Like a videogame character harnessing the sun’s power to unleash their most powerful combat moves. 

It boosted your spirit, and reminded you that even in this world, beauty could still be found. You just had to be open to it. 

And open to it you were. When a couple of the teenagers came excitedly kicking around a soccer ball they’d found, you couldn’t help yourself. Many others felt the same way, which is probably how you all ended up in a massive soccer game across the courtyard, children mixed with adults, the majority of prison goers spectating on the sidelines. 

You managed to get enough to have a 6 v 6, exactly three teens and three adults on each team. Your side included some of your closest friends, Glenn and Sasha. On the other side were Carl and Michonne, and some other Woodbury residents you’d seen around and shared a laugh or two with. Today felt the closest to the life you had before, which was one of sport-filled weekends. So, naturally, it brought out your zealous streak. You were going to win. 

“Guys. We need to fucking smash em’.” you asserted. 

“Y/N! There's kids here…” Glenn jokingly admonished. 

“We’re 15 man…” one of the teenagers pointed out. 

“Anyways…they’re gonna lose whether they like it or not. I’ll play up front. Glenn…you’re quick, so you’ll be with me…uh…” you drifted off, attempting to come up with a game plan. You were so focused that you hadn’t realised the run crew had arrived back and were driving towards the gates. Glenn and Sasha were watching you with amusement. The kids were waiting for your word. You were the professional after all. 

“She’s super into this,” Sasha smirked. 

“Hell yeah!” Glenn smiled. “She’s really good at soccer. We’ve had many conversations about it. Mad skills.”

Sasha patted his shoulder. “Guess we’re gonna have to step up our game then.” 

After deliberating with the kids for a bit, you and your team were ready. 

It was time. 

The whistle — an actual whistle someone had found — was blown by Carol, and the game was on. 

Oh, was the high shrill music to your ears. 

Kick-off commenced, the other team passing it amongst themselves for the first couple of minutes. Of course, since there were no real referees, and since Michonne happened to be right there, you gave her a little shove as you passed, giving her a teasing wink. 

“You bitch!” she laughed as she began running hard for the ball. 

You dashed forward, intercepting a pass meant for her, and crossed it over to Glenn on the left wing. 

Ever the quick pizza delivery boy, he sprinted up the sideline, onlookers getting excited. Making a few minor mistakes, he still managed to manoeuvre the ball around Carl, who you noted was surprisingly fast on his feet, and kicked it back to you sprinting up the centre field. You caught it with your left foot and continued on. Two defenders were gaining on you. 

You juked the defender on the left, rolling the ball under your right foot. Chipping the ball over the remaining defender’s head, you booked it straight to the goal. 

The goalkeeper’s face was full of determination. His hands were out in front of him, feet moving from side to side. In the second that you spent looking at him you could tell he was a bit unsure, but his confidence was unwavering. You admired it. 

However, you used his inexperience to your advantage. 

You faked to the right, watching his eyes follow your movement, then swiftly cut to the left. His stance faltered, giving you just the right amount of time to hit the ball with your left foot. You could vaguely hear kids yelling in the background, Glenn’s shrill laughter, and Sasha’s cheers filling the air. 

As you kicked the ball, its trajectory started outside the line of the makeshift goalpost, and about halfway it began to curve inwards.  You held your breath as you saw the ball curving towards the very top left corner, waiting with bated breath as the goalie took a gigantic leap towards it. 

The ball sailed and sailed and sailed. 

Until you witnessed it pass just inside the post, and the satisfying *thud* of the ball hitting the ground behind it caused your teammates to erupt in cheers.

Pumping your fists in excitement, you saw Glenn sprinting up to you with his arms outstretched. 

“HOLY SHIT!” 

“Oof!” you breathed, getting thrown to the ground in a giant bear hug. Before you knew it, all of the kids, including those of the opposition — a definite product of over-excitement — began stacking on top of the both of you, until all anyone could see was a massive pile of bodies in the middle of the courtyard. 

Laughter and screams and fun filled the air. You didn’t even care about the goal anymore. The innocence and presence of the moment were enough to bring happy tears to your eyes. 

Rick wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead as he closed the gate behind the car. Looking towards the courtyard, he mumbled to himself in disbelief. “Are they playin’ soccer?”

As Daryl hopped out of the passenger side, he responded a bit incredulously. “Looks like it.” 

Opening the boot to retrieve the supplies they brought back, Maggie started giggling, seeing her husband with the ball. “Look! Go Glenn!”

Glenn had the ball and was sprinting up the sideline. At that moment, the three of them observed his and your play. 

“Damn girl…” Daryl breathed upon seeing your goal. Rick let out a low chuckle. Seeing his son playing was like being transported back to a time he thought he’d never get to experience again as a father. 

When Glenn tackled you to the ground, Maggie let off a grunt of amused disapproval and began jogging towards the fun. 

"She’s gonna’ suffocate!" Maggie shouted playfully, her voice full of warmth as she made her way onto the field. Slowly, everyone removed themselves from the stack, allowing you to get up and have a laugh. From where Daryl was, it looked as if you and Glenn were trying to coerce Maggie to join in rather animatedly. Cute. 

As the game continued, Rick grabbed Daryl’s shoulder breaking him out of his little trance. “You comin’ or what?” he grinned. 

Daryl looked to Rick, and after a couple of seconds gave him an upwards nod and made his way down to the sideline with him. 

“Ya’ refereein’ or somethin’?” Daryl asked Carol with an amused smirk.

“Something like that…your girlfriend is kicking some major ass.” 

“She ain’t…whatever,” Daryl grunted. Looking away and at the field, he saw Michonne pass it off to another player, resulting in a tying of the score and a multitude of cheers. Eyes drifting away from the scoring team and Carl’s silly victory dance, Daryl caught sight of you again. 

What you were wearing closely resembled tiny soccer shorts which showed off your long, toned legs. You almost always wore cargo pants, so that was certainly a sight for sore eyes. He stared as the muscles in your quads and glutes expanded and retracted as you ran with an elegance he’d never seen before. 

“You might wanna close your mouth before you start drooling big guy.” 

A faint blush crept up his neck. Turning to shoot Carol a glare, he growled a low shuddup before being interrupted by the ball landing at his feet. A bit perplexed, he looked down at it, and up again to see a bunch of teens running at him and obnoxiously calling for it. 

Daryl couldn’t help but smirk after being encouraged by Carol to pass the ball back. The enthusiasm of youth was so infectious, that even his reserved self couldn’t hide from it. 

“Come on, Daryl!” you suddenly exclaimed, causing him to glance towards you. Hearing your voice made a rush of warmth spread through his chest.

As Daryl looked over towards you, you were caught off guard by the handsome smirk he donned, his eyes glistening with something that made your heart skip a beat. Your cheeks flushed slightly, but not from the sun or exertion. 

“Gonna kick it or what?” You called out, a bit of a challenge in your tone. Daryl’s smirk widened, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. Without missing a beat, he booted the ball toward the centre of the field. Before either of you could say anything else, Carl beat you to it. 

“Come play Daryl! We need another person!” 

Carol nudged him in the side. “You should go…” 

Daryl looked between Carol, Carl, and finally towards you. You bit your bottom lip and gave a single shrug of your shoulders. The vivaciousness you exuded was alluring. Looking towards the plumpness of your lips and back up, Daryl’s eyes locked with yours and stayed there. It was like you were inviting him to join. Carol hid a knowing smile as he continued to stare. 

Daryl couldn’t leave you hanging, nor could he not indulge you (or so he told himself). Squinting his eyes slightly, he took a deep breath to steel his resolve. Your eyes were like magnets drawing him in. You were beautiful. 

 “Alrigh’...”

As Daryl started jogging onto the makeshift field, a couple of people started cheering and chanting his name. You giggled as he approached you. “Ma’am.”

“Sir.” you mimicked, hands on hips. You subtly lowered your eyes and gazed at him through your lashes. “Ready to get pounded?” 

“W-what?” Daryl stuttered, suddenly pretending he was interested in the play being made across the courtyard. 

“Are you ready to lose?” You laughed, pinching his side while watching his ears go red. He swatted your hand away. 

“Ain't I playin’ wit’ ya?” 

“Nuh-uh. Didn’t you hear Carl say they were short one?” You waited for a beat, before suddenly shoving Daryl backwards and running to chase the ball. “So better get into position, Dixie!”

Stumbling back a step or two from your playful shove, it was like a switch was flipped. Hearing his name being called and encouragement being thrown his way from the sidelines, Daryl was nearly completely overwhelmed. He wasn’t used to so much positive attention in this manner…especially your…blatant flirting? He almost didn’t know how to deal with it. 

Almost. 

Seeing you turn back to give him a wink made a certain desire erupt in his midsection. It ignited a type of fervour in him. 

It’s on girl. 

Daryl’s heart raced every time the two of you made eye contact. Not having really played a proper game of soccer before, it was difficult for him to try and manufacture some sort of on-field play with you. Although he’d touched the ball and passed it off to others a few times already, he was slightly trepidatious. The timing just wasn’t right for you to engage with him. 

So, he just decided to ‘go with the flow’. 

Daryl had to admit, this was some of the most enjoyment he’s had in a long time. Especially with other people. But mostly, he enjoyed watching you enjoy yourself. 

You were everywhere, laughing, shouting instructions, encouraging your teammates. You were truly in your element. It was like watching a different person, a side of you he hadn’t seen before. And damn if it wasn’t attractive.

Before Daryl knew it, one of the kids passed the soccer ball back to him, and he glanced up to see you were headed straight for him. He started towards you, eyes narrowing in determination. 

You saw your chance. Daryl finally had the ball and was within proper distance. You started sprinting towards him, admittedly a bit distracted by the glistening sweat on his arms accentuating every muscle fibre there. Focus Y/N. 

As you two closed the gap between each other, Daryl stuck his other leg out and pushed you for good measure, tripping you. 

Your momentum carried you forward, causing you to nearly fall head-first into the ground. At the last second you caught yourself, letting out a huff. A series of concerned ‘Oooos’ could be heard from onlookers. “What the hell Daryl!” you yelled at his retreating form. 

Admittedly, the action pissed you off a bit. Two can play at that game, chiselled arms be damned. 

You quickly pushed yourself from the ground and sprinted at full speed to catch up. You were there in no time. Getting ready to shove Daryl back from behind, you squared up your shoulder and collided with him. It was enough to mess up his footing, and the ball skidded off to the side.  

There was an element of shock across Daryl’s face as he turned around to find you behind him, causing your annoyance to completely fizzle out and turn into something more akin to lust-fueled amusement. The two of you locked eyes, and Daryl’s expression turned roguish. 

The next few seconds felt as if they were in slow motion. The ball sat stationary fifteen metres away, watching, waiting. 

The air cracked with unspoken tension. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest in anticipation of what was to come. Everyone in the vicinity had vanished from your awareness. Now, it was just you, Daryl, and the ball — although really, you were both more focused on the presence of each other than the game now. 

Without wasting another second, you lunged forward and grabbed a fistful of Daryl’s sleeveless shirt. You heard him release a grunt of objection, but it was enough for you to pull him backwards and allow you to lead the chase. 

You heard Daryl yell smart ass as his footfalls sounded behind. You were so incredibly giddy that you felt like a little girl being chased by her little boy crush in the playground.

You were about three metres from the ball before you felt his calloused hand grip your shoulder, half shoving you in another direction. Catching a glimpse of the rarely-ever captured excitement in Daryl’s face, you began giggling as you tried to retain your balance. 

“Hey!” you puffed out. 

“Better watch ya’self” Daryl panted, trying to battle for possession of the ball which now had both of you fighting for it. 

“Better watch your —” you grunted, holding him back with your forearm “— self!” 

Just as you were getting the upper hand, Daryl used his arms to grab you and hastily shove you to the side. His touch set you ablaze. 

As he began running again, you managed to hook your ankle around his own, effectively tripping him over. 

As Daryl stumbled, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, laughing harder when Daryl’s hand caught you behind your knee and he pulled you down with him. You felt an intense surge of electricity travel up your leg and remain at your lower navel. 

Realising you were now trying to escape his grasp and army crawl towards the direction of the ball, Daryl swung himself from his side onto his stomach, scrambling to get a better hold of your slowly retreating legs. 

Surprisingly, you managed to drag yourself another metre or so before Daryl got a proper grip on your thighs, his fingers heavily dimpling into the skin there. Laughter never dissipating, Daryl smiled to himself, having trapped you on the grass. 

Twisting to lie on your back, you continued to squirm in Daryl’s solid grasp. You were able to sense every bend and every shape of every finger taking hold of your thighs. Daryl pushed himself up on his knees, now leaning over your squirming form. 

“Ya shouldn’ta never told me ya’ were ticklish…” Daryl said quietly before he released your legs and started attacking your sides with his hands. 

“NO!” you squealed, thrashing your body in an attempt to get away from Daryl’s large hands. 

Daryl couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the way your eyes sparked with joy. Your tousled hair strewn all over the grass with the sun beating down on your tanned skin made you look otherworldly. Like an angel even his own imagination couldn’t conceptualise the beauty of, but was still here in front of him, seemingly reciprocating his affections. 

You were laughing so much that you were gasping for air. Not wanting you to suffocate, Daryl slowly stopped his hands from moving and held them on your waist for a few seconds to allow you to get your bearings.

Staring into your eyes, he revelled at the softness beneath his fingertips. He focused on the small movements of your abdominal muscles beneath them, and watched your lips part as you pulled in heavy breath after heavy breath. His eyes were drawn to your lips once again as you wetted them with your tongue. 

Moving your hands from above your head to softly grasp Daryl’s at your waist, you huffed a small laugh and gazed at him with wide eyes. You admired his boyish handsomeness. 

“You. Are a prick.” 

Daryl let escape a small snort of his own and shyly chewed his lip. “Only fer ya’ pretty girl…” 

A small breeze picked up, slightly swaying the section of hair hanging from Daryl’s forehead. The way he was softly watching you made you want to pull him down to you and close the distance —

“Either play or get a room!” 

“Yeah! Jesus Christ…” 

The heat of the moment was ruined by a herd of teens resuming the play which you’d seemingly both forgotten all about. 

Both realising the…compromising…position you both were in, the two of you abruptly pulled away from each other, both going equally red from embarrassment. The sounds of people hollering and some mildly inappropriate noises filled your ears, adding to the awkwardness. 

“Oh my god…” you managed, sitting up and covering your face with your hands. 

Daryl stood and offered you his hand which you sheepishly took. He waited until you looked at him before he gave you his half-smile, reserved only for you. You’d never admit it, but it always managed to make you melt. 

“Ya’ actually ain’t that bad at soccer.” 

You shook your head in jest. “Shut up.”

*I DO NOT give permission for my work to be used/adapted/copied in any way.*

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 13

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I wake up – still on the couch – to the blaring of my alarm at 6:30am, feeling a sense of deja vu. I curse myself for even beginning a fitness routine, even though it’s only been one day. But then I remember I have the opening shift today, and I’m actually thankful for the distraction. I quickly shove the half read and now slightly crumpled papers back in the envelope and into my backpack along with a pen. Now short on time, I slip into the first pair of clean clothes I can find and leave without breakfast. After impatiently waiting for the elevator for approximately 10 seconds I sprint down the stairs and all the way down the street to the cafe. 

When I get to the door, the sign’s already flipped and there’s a lineup at the counter. I dump my bag and don my apron as quickly as possible while apologising profusely to Stewie who’s taking orders.

“Just get to work, the order’s are stacking up already.”

I do as I’m told and start rapidly making coffees, fancy hot cocoas and plating and heating treats from the display. I hand off the finalised orders to my coworker who had been rapidly cleaning the kitchen after Stewie’s busy morning. Through fractured conversations between orders I find out that the line up started earlier than usual after word had gotten out that a celebrity had dined here before Christmas. So far though, everyone seems oblivious that I’m the woman in the photo, or if they know they are just shrugging it off as me doing my job and serving him. I’m just thankful for the lack of probing and focus on turning out order after order.

Despite bringing the paperwork with the intention of reading and signing it during my break, with the influx of fans around me think better of it. Instead, I keep my head down and focus on just getting some food into my stomach during my break. After lunch I prepare to go home, when my coworker reminds me, I promised to work a double to swap my New Year’s Eve shift. I sigh, but nod, remembering the deal I made weeks prior. I retie my apron and set about delivering orders to tables. A few keen-eyed fans recognise me from the photo but to my pleasant surprise they just ask about what he was like and what drink he had. I claim to not remember as I serve so many people, but of course I remember every detail of that day, how could I forget? 

After successfully evading questions all day and serving at least twice the normal number of customers, I’m utterly exhausted as I flip the sign. Yet, I push it aside to clean the whole cafe till it shines, still feeling guilty for being late and not helping with the early influx.

Needless to say, the paperwork is still burning a hole in my back and mind when I finally get home well after dark. Even so, I know I don’t have time tonight now. I need to spend the little remaining energy to completely finalise the plans for the Bachelorette party tomorrow night. I pull all the sashes, the dressup bridal tiara and plans out of the cupboard and lay them out on the coffee table. I organise everything in individual party bags; one for each bridesmaid and a special one for the bride herself. Each bag is complete with a sash, personalised hangover kit, and monogrammed cup in each lady’s favourite colour, along with the prepaid entry wristbands to a Moulin Rouge themed bar across town. The bride’s bag has all of that plus the tiara and a necklace with her birth stone and Future Mrs. Everhart on it. The whole event with all the gifts have me set back at least a few months in afterpay expenses – not to mention the drinks I’ll undoubtably end up buying on the night – but I know it will all be worth it when I see Stella’s face. She’s done so much for me, it’s finally my turn to attempt to return the favour. It’s after midnight by the time everything is completely ready to go. 

Knowing I’ll be out well after it crosses into the new year, I force myself to push aside everything else and get as much sleep as I can, but not before deleting that exercise alarm. I figure that until I can afford to factor in a gym membership, I can be content with taking the stairs – which I already do most days – and being on my feet all day at the cafe. I shake my head at myself; already throwing away resolutions and it’s not even the new year yet.

It's well after nine when I wake up, which is the latest I’ve slept in, in a long time, but I know I needed it. I spend what’s left of the morning going through the NDA and finally sign it. I’m about to send a text to Jensen telling him as much along with an apology, when Stella calls. I know she took a half day today and tomorrow off completely to enjoy tonight, so I just know her excitement levels are through the roof. I answer.

“Hey bride-to-be! Ready to party tonight?”

“So ready! You coming over beforehand? Since you’ve kept it all a secret I need help with what to wear!”

“Always planned to. Uber is booked from your place after all. We’re all meeting there for predrinks and then heading out, sorry I didn’t ask, but I knew you’d be fine with it. I’ll head over soon. Nick’s Buck’s is tonight too right?”

“For sure! Sounds perfect! And yep! Though, knowing him I think it’ll be a pretty chill night. Mine better not be though, it is New Year’s Eve after all!”

“We’re going all out, don’t you worry! You’re gonna love it!”

“The other girls on board?”

“100 per cent! They love it as much as I do, and I much as I know you’re going to. Now stop fishing for hints! I’ll see you soon!” I hang up before she can try to push any further. I look around for something big enough to fit the party bags in as well as my outfit for tonight. After looking everywhere I settle on the box from Jensen. I rip off the postage label to avoid questions if the other girls see it and then take out the dress. I lay it on my bed and then pack everything into the box. 

I manage on the subway with surprising ease, having managed to fit everything in a single box. I mentally thank Jensen for sending it because I really would have struggled otherwise. I sigh, he’s helping me in ways he doesn’t even know and yet I pushed him away. I quickly push away the thought, I can’t afford to think about any of that tonight; my complete focus needs to be on the bride-to-be and ensuring the best Bachelorette party she could ever dream of. 

When I finally get to her place, I can tell she’s over excited because she opens the door before I even get on the porch. She tries to take the box but I hold tight. “Not yet! You have to wait until the others get here! Patience!”

She pouts and I giggle. She lets me in and I place the box down so I can pull her in for a much needed hug. Sticking to – at least some of – my resolutions and determined to make this day completely about her, I don’t say anything, but I relish in her warm comfort. When I pull away I take the box up to the guest room to take away the temptation for her before she drags me into the master suit so I can help pick out her outfit. I’ve been in close contact with the bestman to make special plans, so I know that Nick will be leaving before us, but I still want something that will surely overwhelm him at the end of the night. I’m also looking for something that will match the Moulin Rouge theme without ruining the surprise.

I explore her closet, rifling through her dresses, most of them are business casual, but I know that she’s a partier, so I just have to find those pieces. In hindsight, I probably could have picked her up something from the thriftstore where I got my outfit – which was surprisingly brand-new with the tags still attached – but I knew she’d have something appropriate. After shifting through and discounting her simple little black dresses, maxi dresses and short clubbing dresses I find one that I’ve never seen her wear. I give her a questioning look as I pull out the stunning, red sequined dress with a mesh midrift and slit in the thigh; it’s almost identical to mine except, mine is a deeper shade of maroon and is velvet instead of sequins. I can’t believe the chances. 

“Did someone spill?” I ask as I hold the dress out to her.

“What? No? Is this a hint‽”

“When’d you get this dress then? I don’t remember it?”

“Nick and I planned to go to a fancy dress party a while ago, it was like a gala for a client I was trying to pitch, but that was when I had that terrible chest infection; lost the deal and missed the party…”

“That sucks! Well, tonight’s your chance. This is for sure the one!” I hang it on the back of the ensuite door before she leads me into the ensuite so we can both start doing our hair and make up. I turn on a party playlist to pump up the energy as I help brush and curl her shoulder-length auburn hair. She then returns the favour, curling and putting my hair into a half-up, half-down style with a bun, secured in place with silver and faux-diamonte pins. When I turn around and see her handiwork, I praise myself for buying the tiara, because she truly needs and deserves to stand out. We both then work on the base layers of our own makeup before helping eachother apply the finishing touches. 

Just as we’re almost done, Nick appears in the doorway. “Alright, ladies…Trav’s here, I’m headed out.” He comes closer to Stella and goes to kiss her but she keeps him at an arms reach.

“Don’t mess with the makeup, it’s still setting. I love you, babe. Have fun! Let loose for once!”

He shakes his head at her with a fond smile. “I love you too. I’ll try. All I ask is that you be a little responsible, but have fun.” He leans down and pecks her neck instead, respecting her wishes to not mess the makeup. Then he looks at me, “Look after her.” I nod. Satisfied, he leaves.

I check the time on my phone; half an hour till the bridesmaids arrive. “T-minus 30 minutes! Time to get dressed and accessorise!” I help her slip into her dress carefully so she doesn’t mess up her hair and makeup. She swaps out her stud earrings for a dangly set that pair with a silver diamonte necklace. When she reaches for a sparkly headband I stop her, “I’ve got that covered.”

She sits on the bed to strap on a pair of silver, glittery stilettos and then puts the essentials – lipgloss, ID, money and her phone – in a matching purse before leading me back to the guest room to help me get ready. Her jaw drops when she see me in my dress, the resemblance really is uncanny.

She wolf whistles as she makes me do a spin. “Sexy! Let me take a photo! You have to send this to Jensen!”

“No, come on, tonight’s all about you!”

Despite my protests she takes both my phone and hers and takes photos of us both while I finish getting ready, putting my maroon block heels on, swapping out my jewellery for a fancy silver set my parents got me for my birthday, and then grab the quite pleasantly matching maroon purse I found at the same thrift store as my dress. The final step is to give Stella her tiara, I place it on her head, careful not to catch or mess up her hair. We both take a few more photos in the living room, at the bride-to-be’s insistence until the doorbell rings.

Stella drops everything and runs to the door to welcome in the two other bridesmaids: Felicity and Gabby. They’re both dressed to the nines in slightly revealing short sparkly dresses that resemble flapper dresses, Felicity in Gold and Gabby in a deep blue. I’d associate them a little more with The Great Gatsby but I know they’ll fit right in anyway; I saw that style dress come up when researching and in the movie that Stella and I have watched together numerous times. We all take more photos before I hand out the fancy gift bag. After gushing over everything, Stella pops out the wine and we each enjoy a drink out of the fancy, reusable, personalised cups. We also all put on our sashes and wristbands and take evenmore photos. 

Before long the Uber is beeping out the front. We all pile in, just slightly buzzed, and joke around and converse noisily all the way to the bar. Stella’s jaw drops and she squeals the second she sees Moulin Rouge in flashing lights. “No way!”

“Yes way! I know it’s your favourite,” I tell her. She tackles me in a massive hug the second we step out of the Uber. We then flash your wristbands and ID for the security guard to skip the already growing line. Her excitement is palpable as she takes in actresses and barmaids and men dressed up in themed attires. A few men and a few ladies compliment our outfits as we push through the crowd to get closer to the dancefloor. Felicity disappears to get the first official round of themed cocktails while the rest of us dance and attempt to sing along to a DJ remix of the music from the movie.

After a few drinks I make sure Stella gets a dance with one of the professional performers and take video for her to relive it once the hangover wears off and she can’t remember a thing. The whole night, despite also getting lost in the fun, drinks and atmosphere, I manage to keep an eye on the time. It’s almost 11:30 when I start to try and move the party. I get the confirmation from the bestman that they’re also on the move, and start speeding things up.

“Another round?” Felicity asks loudly but I shake my head firmly and shoot her a warning look, trying to get her attention and remind her of the plan. Eventually she nods in understanding and stands up from the stools where we were resting after hours of dancing.

“Come on girls, let’s go get some air,” I say. Felicity joins me and Gabby finally catches on. Stella whines but obediently stands up.

“You promised me the night wouldn’t end before midnight!” she slurs, “It’s only half past 11.”

“Who said anything about the night ending? I just suggested a change of scenery.”

She huffs as we squeeze through the crowd and out onto the street. I ignore her pouting as I hail a waiting cab and show him the address on my phone, so as not to ruin the surprise for my best friend. My leg bounces to relieve my nerves as the driver swerves through the traffic. I know they’ll love seeing each other, but I also know Nick’ll be concerned about how much she’s drank. I can only hope Travis held up his side of the bargain and helped Nick let loose a little too. After what feels like an eternity of the girls trying to distract Stella, the driver finally pulls a park around the block from our destination at my request. I hope the little walk in the cold night air will help build the suspense and sober Stella up, if only a touch. I pay the driver as everyone gets out. 

We take in all the flashing billboards, advertising all sorts of music, movies and appliances. Despite living in New York for years now, I rarely come into Times Square, except for when I do auditons. Coming from a small rural townin Texas, the packed streets make me feel extra claustrophobic, but I’m willing to push past that tonight for the sake of your best friend. So, I do. The four of us walk among the crowd of people all headed towards the same destination to watch the highly anticipated yearly ball drop. 

Sure, to many it’s just a giant ball sliding slowly down a metal pole, but for many New Yorkers this is a rite of passage. Plus, what better location to secure my best friend her New Years kiss with the love of her life. I couldn’t think of anything she would love more. Thus, were shouldering our way through throngs of sweaty, drunk people – much like ourselves if I’m honest – to find the groom party at the agreed meeting place outside the Disney store.

As soon as we spot the boys, we start pushing into the middle of the closed-off street to get a better view. I watch Stella and Nick run into each other’s arms – or more like drunkenly stumble in Stella’s case – just in time for the countdown to begin. I watch in awe as the crowd calls out, counting down in time with the MC over the loudspeakers. My eyes flick between the ball, the crowd and my best friends. But as the countdown gets to one, there’s only one person on my mind.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy, @winchesterwild78 @kr804573

[decaflondonfog]

writerly ephemera

a few years back my darling friend @the-starryknight started a tag game inspired by a chat we had in a writing server regarding all the little personal details we add to our art. humans hold so many things close to their hearts without even realising, memories, artefacts, places, turns of phrase... lots of precious little bits and bobs i adore! recently i had a chat with the lovely @billdenbrough about the familiar fear of putting a little too much of yourself into a character — when do you cross the self-insert line? but also, aren’t these the things that make our characters human? which got me thinking about starry's tag game. so i've decided to bring it back! here's how we're doing it:

✨ share some bits little bits of you, easter eggs, memories, etc. you have left scattered in your fics or art. if you fancy it, tag a pal. ✨

i apologise in advance for the ridiculous amount of yapping you’re about to read aaaand here are some silly little mari-isms i’ve let bleed into my writing:

🏡 "The house is a ridiculous thing that could easily sleep a whole Exy team, but when Kevin questions it, all Andrew does is shrug and say, “This wasn’t exactly planned, it’s the best I could find with the time I had.”"

geometric equilibrium has a few mari-isms in it. abby's house is based on my friend emma's house too but this feels the most relevant: the house in Asheville is based on a place i stayed in a couple of years ago! the real life one isn't in Asheville, though it is in NC. i spent a really happy week there with friends and it just popped into my head when i was writing this fic. the setup of the rooms (kevin's and andreil's being across the landing from each other) was useful for what i want to write (as well as the bathroom placement!) so i just ran with it.

🪩 “…the faded band t-shirt two sizes too big that the redhead has tucked into a leather mini skirt. Instead of the usual pair of boots, Neil’s wearing a pair of platform sneakers in black and white.”

ahhhhh kaleidoscope :’) the fic where i genderbent all the monsters and then turned neil into my wee dress up doll! all of neil’s outfits were based on stuff i own and this particular one was a fave during my clubbing days. the only thing i didn’t own when i wrote this fic were the black and white trainers which i now own hahaha

🛁 “Bitty cuts himself a generous slice of pie and eats it in the bath.”

i haven’t lived in a house with a bath for three years and i miss it dearly. i used to have pudding and booze in the bath on hard days and it was super therapeutic — honestly i was just living vicariously through bitty in growing pains

🌸 “There, in the corner, not covered by the laundry that Kevin didn’t put away, is a vintage armchair (…) It’s pink, with old, spoiled velvet, and half of the fringes at the bottom of the chair missing.”

approximately eight years ago i walked past an antique shop and fell in love with a pink velvet toad chair with a wee fringe at the bottom. i didn’t think i could afford it but told my partner i was going to try and convince the shop to let me rent it for a photoshoot. i got home after work one day and my partner had bought it for me 🥹 that chair has now been with us in four houses across three countries and used to be one of my late dog’s favourite nap spots. (the fact that i let kandrew desecrate the chair completely in do not disturb the cats was… a choice lmaooooo)

🪡 “Jean comes back to California after five weeks with the Foxes with his hair slightly too long and falling into his eyes, a smattering of fresh freckles over the bridge of his nose, and a new hobby.”

oh this might just be my favourite! when i saw @alcego’s prompt for t&n last year i kneeeeew it had to be mine. giving my Sad Wet Cat blorbo all of my craft hobbies? what a delight! the best part is that out of all the crafts i made him try in transferable skills, book binding (arguably the main one) is the one i never tried

does anyone want to share? i'll pass this along to the folks tagged above and also @vykio @rwnjun @storiesnstardust @greenautumnleaves @djhedy @thetrojeans @seasy33 @nanatsuyu and @sillyunicorn ❣️

[vikinglanguage]

Top ten Danish sayings according to me

My ten favourite Danish sayings/turns of phrase (in no particular order), just because I love language. I say all of these regularly. Enjoy!

goddag mand, økseskaft – hello man, axe handle

This one is used when someone answers a question you asked in a nonsensical way or just in general when someone has said something foolish or nonsensical. you can read about the origin in Danish here.

det kan ske, det kniver med gaflerne – it may spoon it knives with the forks / it happens that the forks are in short supply

Not used in any specific situation other than when someone says det kan ske 'it happens', because ske 'spoon' and ske 'happen' just so happen to be homonyms. Additionally kniv 'knife' and knibe 'be in short supply' are almost homophonous, especially if kniv was a verb.

fra folk og fulde børn skal man høre sandheden – from people and drunk children you will hear the truth

This is not actually the saying, it's supposed to be børn og fulde folk, but it's more fun like this. Originally, this refers to the fact that neither children, nor the drunk tend to think too hard before speaking, thus they tend to tell the truth.

det haster ikke mere end det jager – it's no more urgent than urgency

Excuse my creative liberties here, as both haste and jage mean 'be urgent'. It is more or less synonymous with "take it easy, no rush" – a sort of Danish hakuna matata.

To me, as someone from Western Jutland, jager should always be pronounced jawer ['ja.wʌ] in this saying.

stå med håret i postkassen – to have gotten one's hair stuck inside the mailbox

A metaphor for when you are in some sort of trouble or problematic situation where you feel like you have no power to change your unlucky situation. Often used when you are disappointed as a result of being cheated somehow.

det kan noget – it does something

My best approximation of an English version is "it's got a certain je ne sais quois", because that's literally what it means. It does something for you, specifically, but you're not entirely sure what exactly it is that it does – but it works!

man kan æggehvide, hvad man æggeskal – one egg whites what one eggshells | one cannot know what one should not do

Another pun, I am sorry for being your literal dad, I guess. Basically æggehvide 'egg white' sounds like ikke vide 'not know' and æggeskal 'eggshell' sounds like ikke skal 'should not'

ikke nå nogen/noget til sokkeholderne – not being able to reach someone/something's garters

When someone/-thing is not nearly as good as someone/-thing else. You know, it barely reaches above their knee!

hvor der handles, der spildes – where stuff gets done, stuff gets lost

Exactly what it says on the tin. Its English cousin is "you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs".

fanden og hans pumpestok – the Devil and his pump stick

Yes, this is as vulgar as it sounds. This one is used last in lists of things that are excessive, e.g, vi skulle støvsuge, slå græs, fjerne spindelvæv, dampe gulvtæppet og Fanden og hans pumpestok 'we had to vacuum, mow the lawn, remove cobwebs, steam the carpet and God knows what else'.

Honourable mention for this one that I learnt while looking stuff up in the dictionary:

[ID: A screenshot from Danish online dictionary ordnet.dk of the entry for the saying 'anbringe bagdelen i klaskehøjde'. It explains the saying and additionally recommends the entries for smæk and øretævernes holdeplads. End ID]

Translation:

to place one's backside (ass, bum) in smacking height.

TRANSFERRED MEANING cause oneself to end up in a situation where one might very easily be exposed to criticism and negative reactions from one's surroundings – e.g., by speaking openly about a certain case USE informal

SEE ALSO spanking | the whoopings' parking space

[scryarchives]

𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

khaji-da mentioned something about the new girl 'drea' being dangerous, but what did she mean by 'dangerous'? and how dangerous could she be if she's best friends with his very own sister?

masterlist | previous , next !

– pairings: jaime reyes x oc

– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers

– author's note: more of a filler chapter haha. disclaimer: i don't speak Spanish, so please do correct me if i am wrong! read more under the cut! :)

A couple of weeks had passed since the Tlatilpas had come over to the Reyes household. Unfortunately, Anika (or as she asked Jaime to call her “Aunt Anika”) was the only one over as her wife Zara had been too exhausted from the drive to Palmera City.

As nice as their family was from what he gathered, Jaime couldn’t help but let what Khaji-Da told him that day weigh his mind down. He sat on his bed, laptop open on the plush bed sheet as he gnawed the end of his pencil, brows furrowed in thought and confusion.

What did she mean by ‘she’s dangerous’? Did Khaji mean Drea specifically? Or her entire family?

“This ‘Drea’ you worry about, she’s the dangerous one.”

Jaime rolled his eyes. Of course, the blue bug alien bonded to him and responded to him when everything was peaceful and quiet in his home.

“Okay, you’ve said that already, but a little specifics would be nice,” He shrugged sarcastically at the little robotic voice in his head. “I mean, dangerous how? Does she have connections to harmful people? She’s got machinery that can endanger us? What–”

“I scanned her DNA while you were shaking hands,” Khaji-Da cut Jaime off, the male glaring incredulously at the voice.

“First off, we need to set some boundaries, Khaji. You can’t keep scanning all these people without my acknowledgement. It’s creepy and overall weird. Second, how would that make her dangerous? She’s human too.”

“Incorrect.”

“What? You’re saying I’m wrong about scanning people being inappropriate–”

“She’s not one hundred per cent human,” Khaji-Da answered once more, this time, her answer left Jaime on edge. 

“She’s approximately fifty per cent alien.”

“Milagro! What’s up? How’s my favourite Reyes doin’?” Drea chuckled, her dark waves bouncing behind her in her high ponytail. The bracelets on her wrists ‘clinked’ together as she and the youngest Reyes high-fived, grins wide on their faces.

“¡Soy bien! You?”

The two shared a handshake, and despite their fast friendship, they got along well, like two peas in a pod.

“Meh, could be better,” She chuckled, rubbing her upper arm. “My Amma had a whole list of chores for me to do, so my arms are completely wiped out.”

“Ah man, I get you,” Milagro scoffed, nudging shoulders with her best friend. “Hey, you wanna come in? I’m sure we got something we could watch together.”

“Yeah, of course! Oh, by the way,” Milagro perked up, seeing Drea halt. “I almost forgot, Amma made some snacks a few days ago, so she asked me to bring some to you.”

It was then that Milagro realised that Drea was carrying a backpack and the Latina walked over to help hold the item up as Drea pulled out a little transparent container with a red twist-on lid.

“It’s more of a traditional snack from her home town? Country? One of those,” The older woman shrugged. “It’s called murukku, not sure if you’ve heard of it, but it’s one of my favourites. Vadai’s a close second.”

Milagro hummed at the spiral-looking snack, smiling kindly at her friend.

“Aw, look at you all soft for me! I’m gonna hide this in my room forever so that no one else in my family will ever take a bite,” She grinned before it fell. “Actually, better not. My mom is gonna kill me if she finds food in my room.”

“Oh, I know how that feels,” Drea chuckles, the two walking into the Reyes’ humble abode.

“Mom! Drea’s here!” Milagro called out, the woman smiling sweetly the moment Bianca entered her view.

“Hi, Mrs Reyes! Thanks for having me over,” She pulls her bag over one shoulder in slight nervousness, Bianca smiling widely at the girl.

“Oh, it’s no problem, Drea! It’s always wonderful to have a friend of Mili’s over!”

“Her mom made us snacks. No one touches it before I do, please,” Milagro huffed, placing the transparent container on the table as her mom eyed the snack curiously.

“Alright, mija, but there’s no controlling the rest of the family,” Bianca laughed, Milagro rolling her eyes with both love and annoyance as she led her friend towards her little room.

“Did you know I found a stray the other day? Surprisingly, both my moms let me keep him,” Drea whispered to Milagro, hoping to distract her.

“Oh seriously? What’d you name him?” Milagro looked over at Drea in slight surprise. 

“Sparky von Cocoa the First, but Sparky’s just for short.”

“I need pictures of him. ASAP.”

“Hey Mils, you hungry?” Drea glanced over at Milagro, seeing her friend lying beside her, stomach flat on the bed as her eyes were still glued to the computer, invested in the series the Latina was introduced to named “Never Have I Ever”.

“Uh… I could get a drink, do you want one?” Milagro raised her eyebrows, glancing up at Drea, who shook her head.

“Nah it’s fine, I can get it. You’re too invested to miss anything,” Drea teased, pushing herself up from her cross-legged position. “And I’ve already watched all the episodes up to date, so I’m good.”

“Wow, you do not have a life.”

“I know I don’t,” Drea chuckled, opening her best friend’s room door, and walking out into the corridor.

As soon as she turned around, she noticed that she was face to face with the other Reyes descendent, Jaime’s eyes widened in surprise to see the neighbour’s daughter standing in his home.

“Jaime, hi,” She flashed him a quick smile, and Jaime cleared his throat.

“Hey, uhm, Drea!” He held an awkward smile of his own, eyes guarded. “What’re you doing here? Is Milagro alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Was gonna get us drinks.”

“Cool.”

Then silence hung over their heads, neither adult looking at the other before Drea crossed her arms, lifting her left arm to point her thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

“So uh, does Milagro have a specific drink she likes here? Or should I drop by the convenience store to get it?” She asked with genuine curiosity that Jaime almost believed that she was completely human.

Unlike what Khaji warned him about.

“We got uh… something in the fridge that she’ll like.” 

Jaime once again smiled, albeit he smiled flatly, heading out of the corridor, and into the dining area. Trailing him to get the drinks, Drea filled herself a cup of water, eyeing Jaime curiously as the male rushed around the area, as though he was looking for someone.

“How’s life?”

Jaime snapped up, humming before zoning back to her presence. He looked a little lost before he finally registered her question all while fidgeting slightly.

“It’s… life. Nothing much really. Job hunting, trying to keep things afloat,” He answered before heading towards the front door.

“Oh seriously? You’re looking for work too? That’s great,” Drea chimed, brushing off Jaime’s behaviour as nervousness. “Do you think it’d be fine if Milagro and I join you for the search?”

“I mean,” Jaime’s eyes darted to the door as he turned around to answer. “Mili and I were already working that out together but uh, yeah, you’re welcome to join.”

“Great, that’s… yeah, thanks,” Drea smiled gratefully back while Jaime nodded hurriedly.

A silence fell between them once more, Jaime tapping his wrist in urgency, yet he stayed in case there was more conversation she tried to start. Just to confirm, he spoke up, Drea keeping her glass away in the sink as she picked up another full glass of water for her friend in the room.

“Is there anything else you need to ask or…?”

“Ah, nope, I’m done,” Drea shook her head, her eyes widening in realisation of his situation. “Oh, shit, sorry for the hold up.”

Before she could say anything else, Jaime told her his response while walking out, the door slamming shut as she heard his voice ring out for the last time.

“You’re good, no worries!”

As soon as the front door was shut and he had walked out of view of anyone, Jaime sighed as his suit, unfortunately, burning his current clothes off, annoyance filling him. 

He had to speak to Khaji about that, there was no way he could keep buying new clothes for each week.

“I thought you would never leave.”

Speak of the Devil.

“Look, she was nice,” Jaime muttered, the helmet forming over his head. “And she’s Milagro’s friend, I can’t be not nice for no reason.”

“She is an alien. There is a reason to not be nice to her,” Khaji-Da responded with a know-it-all tone, Jaime rolling his eyes.

“That’s rich coming from you. Just tell Mama that I’ll be late for dinner.”

gif by @rob-pattinson

taglist: @mooncleaver

< comment/dm me if you'd like to be on the taglist! >

[scotianostra]

27th July 1689 saw the Battle of Killiecrankie.

As soon as you hear the words "Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad?" it puts a smile on my face, in my opinion one of the most rousing Scottish folk songs.

The battle itself saw a force of 2,000 Jacobites under the command of 'Bonnie Dundee', defeated the larger government army of 4,000 soldiers led by General Hugh Mackay.

Bonnie Dundee first sent a small group of highlanders down the main road towards Killiecrankie as a feint, with the intention of deceiving Mackay into thinking this was the advanced guard.

Meanwhile the main Army left their camp in Old Blair, around mid afternoon and circled behind the hill of Lude coming down Allt Chluain. (Ambush stream) with Creag Eallaich (rock of the charge) on their left. Mackay had positioned his men to meet a frontal attack from the direction of Blair. As the highlanders emerged around the side of the hill they saw McKay's army jump to their feet, they had been resting. Mackay had to wheel his forces round quickly to meet this new threat. This put him in the awkward position of facing uphill with his opponents above him and the river barrier at his back. The Highland charge would have bbe in full flight as he tried to regroup his men.

As soon as Bonnie Dundee gave the order to charge, the highlanders uttering the eerie high-pitched battle cry of the Celt, leapt down the hill towards the enemy. The battle lasted approximately 15 minutes.

Unfortunately Dundee, in the act of encouraging his men, was pierced beneath the breastplate by a musket ball of the enemy and fell dying from his horse. Graham reputedly asked a soldier "How goes the day?", to which the man replied, "Well for King James, but I am sorry for your lordship." The dying Graham then replied, "If it goes well for him, it matters the less for me." A short letter describing the engagement to King James was later produced which purported to be from Graham, but is now believed to be spurious.

Going back to the song and the line "But I met the devil and Dundee" this relates to the legend that he was invulnerable to lead (due to having made a pact with the Devil) and was killed by being penetrated by a silver button from his own coat. He died on the battlefield and was carried the few miles to the nearby parish church of St Bride.

I leave you with the Corries, the song here was a live performance from 1975 but there is footage from 1966 as the lads did a pioneering music video, it sees them travel along the road from Pitlochry to Killiecrankie. This is one of my favourite songs from The Corries. The first three verses and the chorus were written by Robert Burns and set to an older melody. James Hogg may have had a hand in writing the additional verses..

[marvelmaniac715]

I made my mother watch tv shows I like, here were her thoughts:

Doctor Who - we watched all of Modern Who, a season and a half of the First Doctor, the Second Doctor’s final serial and have moved on to the Third Doctor (I just couldn’t sit through anymore black and white tv 😅) safe to say she enjoyed it

Good Omens - this one was dicey since she’s Christian and I wasn’t sure what she’d think of the themes, but she liked it for the most part, vastly preferring Season One to Season Two (it was actually the first time I watched Good Omens but I knew about the twist at the end of Season Two… it was very hard to fake shock but my mum and sister weren’t at all interested in the heartbreak)

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - we watched the entirety of the show in a very short amount of time and are now two hours into the Lightning Thief audiobook, she loves it

Wandavision - this, along with Hawkeye, was the only Marvel show that I could convince my mum and sister to watch, and although she’s sat through a few Marvel movies with me I can sense that it is very much not her thing

The Goes Wrong Show - my entire family enjoys Mischief Theatre so she did enjoy it but won’t do repeated viewings because she thinks it’s less funny if you know what’ll happen (I very much disagree and have watched every episode many times)

Bluey - this show is what inspired me to make this post, she caught me playing a Bluey game on my phone (don’t judge me it’s a comforting show) and I convinced her to watch some episodes with me, we watched the first four episodes (up to Shadowlands) and she laughed approximately five times in total, it reminds her too much of Peppa Pig (my favourite show when I was little) and she winced whenever Bluey or Bingo laughed (she’s got a thing about kids making noise when playing outside) but I think she’ll watch more episodes with me

EDIT: For some reason I put the word ‘three’ in the title, no clue why, ignore me, I’m super tired 😭

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - Chapter Three.

A big thank you to those reading and engaging with this :) I'm aiming for twice weekly updates, so if you need to catch up, I'd do it quick so you don't get left behind!

Previous chapters - One Two

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,987

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

Bath fresh, her skin softened from her various, and not to mention luxurious Penhaligon’s products, from the bubble bath to the rich moisturiser she liberally coated her skin with, Rin was feeling nothing short of sublime.

She pulled on her favourite oversized cashmere sweater and socks along with her silk sleep shorts, hopping down the stairs and making herself a cappuccino in favourite large mug, the one her mother insisted lived at the back of the cupboard. Its sheer size clashed with her delicate, dainty china.  

No mum around meant she was free to enjoy her big cup, as well as the greasy KFC she’d treated herself to earlier that evening. Fast food was looked upon with envy by Diane, even though she loved it, complaining she gained four pounds just looking at a portion of fries.  

Standing at the huge island in the equally massive kitchen, Rin read from a copy of her mother’s Vogue magazine while enjoying her coffee, the only sound around coming from the huge grandfather clock out in the corridor ticking away. It was so peaceful that she almost jumped out of her skin when the telephone began to trill.  

“Miss Cavanagh,” Frank, their head of security spoke, after she’d lifted the slim, cordless Bang and Olufsen phone to her ear. “Sorry to disturb you, but there’s a Mr Wallace here, says he’s come to see you?” 

Her heart all but jumped clean out of her throat. “Yes, let him up.”  

“Will do, miss. Good evening to you.” Placing the phone down, she hurtled from the kitchen, down the corridor, skidding to a halt before running up the grand staircase two steps at a time. She had approximately five minutes before he’d reach her, the length of the driveway alone taking almost that long to ascend from the front gate.  

Thankfully, her eyelash extensions meant she needed nothing in the way of her eyes looking prettier, taking a little of her glossy facial oil with the glittered tint to it and smothering on a few drops. A twist of her favourite peachy cream blush sorted her cheeks, a slick of rose-tinted Vaseline finishing her lips with a pretty sheen. A spritz of perfume and a brush run over her hair, and she was ready to receive her surprise visitor.  

She knew he’d be told by Frank to drive around to the rear of the property, where a small courtyard that had once been a stable block lay. It was the easiest way to get to the private part of the house, rather than heading to the front door and having a whole lot of home to wander through before reaching it.  

Seeing the headlights of the black Mercedes illuminate the kitchen, she walked out and down to the side door, opening it up just as he was locking his car.  

“I feel I have been lured here under false pretences,” he began, walking across the gravel that crunched beneath his feet. “I distinctly remember you telling me you were enjoying pottering around in only your pants.” 

“Well, since you decided you were visiting without telling me, you didn’t give me a chance to take my sweater and socks off, did you?” 

He reached the door, looking down at her with a widening, cocky grin. “No, but I’ll take them off for you right now, if you’d like?” 

She smirked, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, her other hand reaching to stroke his short, neat beard. “You certainly didn’t forget me in a hurry then, did you?” 

His cock definitely hadn’t. “It would appear not, little vixen.” He leaned to her, mouth pressing to hers, his hands reaching beneath her sweater to grasp her bum. Clutching her thighs, he lifted her neatly, her legs wrapping around him as he entered the vast homestead, elbowing the door shut and reaching to turn the large key in the lock. “Where am I taking you to?” 

“Lounge,” she gasped, lips plumped from their kisses, sighing breathily as he began to kiss her neck. “I would say bedroom, but there’s too many stairs. I want your cock in my mouth as soon as possible. Keep walking and I’ll tell you where to turn.”  

Sean felt as if he was walking forever as he strode along the corridor, his boots heavy upon the oak floorboards beneath, his cock hardening for just having Rin pressed against him once more. It firmed exponentially when she gathered her sweater and yanked it over her head, his mouth immediately finding her nipples with a hungry moan.  

“Mmm, missed my perfect little tits, didn’t you?” 

He rumbled a chuckle, releasing the suck upon her nipple with a little slurp. “Couldn’t get them off my fucking mind, darling.”  

They were one of her best assets, she knew this well. “Right turn!” He moved as instructed, closing the door behind them by pinning her against it, their kisses a blaze of syrupy sin. Carrying her to the sofa, he seated himself, hands moving to squeeze gently at her breasts, his groan vibrating her lips when smouldering kisses met his throat.  

His leather jacket was shrugged off, t shirt following, Rin sliding to the rug below as she ran her hands up his hard thighs, grasping his belt. Her eyes burned like hazel flames, licking her lip in anticipation as she stripped him naked, a rock-hard erection springing free of his clothes she could scarcely wait to wrap her lips around.  

Pressing her tongue against the very base of his shaft, she ran a long, slow lick upwards, feeling it twitch as he watched her intently, hissing a groan when her tongue ended right upon the tip, flicking firmly, her hand curling around him in soft grasp. Watching her, he witnessed the sight of his cock vanish into her mouth, head thudding back against the sofa. 

Her mouth worked him slowly, wet lips gliding over his thick shaft, the addition of a whirling tongue every time she reached the head again causing his thigh muscles to tremble as the heat built steadily. Little pin pricks of pleasure soon intensified, flaring in his blood as his fingers tangled in the soft blonde of her hair, his chest beginning to rise and fall more rapidly.  

And he’d thought her hands were competent. Fuck.  

He was near delirium with how fastidiously she sucked upon him, mouth dropped agape as he lifted his head again to watch her, raising a curious eyebrow in wonder as what she was doing with her free hand. “Where’s your left hand, hmm?”  

“Guess.” Removing her fingers from where she’d been stroking the silk of her arousal over her clit, she pushed them into his mouth, Sean sucking them with the same hunger she devoured his cock with.  

“Dirty girl,” he chuckled, “if you need my cock that badly then by all means, feel free to come and get on it.”  

“I need to run upstairs and get a condom first.”  

He shook his head. “Inside pocket of my jacket.”  

Reaching for the cast aside leather, she located them, tearing open the packet. “Look at that, he comes prepared.” She had it slid onto him in seconds, moving to straddle his thighs. “He’s going to come very hard, too.” 

Of that he was in little doubt, a shuddered breath fluttering over his lips as she took him into her heat, her mouth meeting his in a slow, dirty kiss. To feel him there stretching her out once more was heaven dripped for Rin, getting off not only on the arousal of the man who was, if she was honest, the best sex of her life (not difficult when he was only her sixth, granted) but because he’d just had to have her again, a mere five and a half hours after the first time.  

Rolling her hips against him, she moaned against his tongue, his groans all salt and smoke, hands clasped at her back, mouth slipping to her neck to bite with gentle sharpness. Good sex, it was easy to find really. Smouldering, sensationally erotic sex, well that all depended on the person he was having it with. Again, he felt the pull of connection to her, trying in feeble retaliation to remain emotionally aloof and simply enjoy.  

As blue burned into hazel in an unbreakable stare, though, the alchemy of her proved a little too potent to fight. So, he lost himself to it, hands gliding through her hair, pulling her into magmatic kisses as he moved in perfect motion with her, a hand sliding to smack her arse in hard repetition as he bounced her on his cock.  

Fire and frost licked her veins as she felt him rutting her deep, Rin thriving on the thick spearing into her wetness, the lewd sound of him cutting through that hot slick filling the room. Without warning, he moved to throw her down onto her back, hands clasping her wrists as he pinned her down on the sofa, arrowing into her until she was shrieking.  

His cock stroked pure ebullience against her sensitive walls, fucking her frantically, sexually decimating her insides, giving himself to her relentlessly with keenly delivered thrusts. Actually, keen was not a word that could be used to describe the utter pounding Rin was receiving. She tried to fight against his hold, but he kept her pinned, shaking his head as he stared down at her. 

“No. If I want you held down, you’ll be held down. No ifs or buts.”  

She licked her lip, his dominance making heat blister beneath her skin. “Mmm, I have no problem with that.” 

What he gave was all-out sexual brutality, the sofa creaking beneath them, the clutch of his powerful hands moving to grip her thighs in an effort to hold her still, anchoring her to him, forcing her to take the brunt of it entirely. And that brunt, nothing could feel better. Nothing ever had better than Sean, fucking her with all the power of a turbo charged jackhammer. Nothing.    

The intensity of his stormy blue eyes were ten times more hypnotic when he was fucking her, his body beginning to bead with perspiration as he railed her into the sofa, his thumb moving to stroke at her hardened clit as the punch of his cock drew even louder, lewder noises from within her soaking walls. The pleasure crackled through her, the swell skittering down to her bones as she wailed helplessly, at the mercy of him entirely.  

“Look at you, darling. You look so fucking beautiful, split around my cock.” he panted, grasping her legs and hauling them up to rest against his chest, turning his head to lay kisses and little bites at her ankle, near out of his mind with carnal fury.  

He then slowed, each plunge into her fluttering centre given in all-in, all-out thrusts, teasing her aching core, chuckling at her frustrated little mewls as he panted hard. “Sean, please! Fucking give it to me!” she demanded, nails raking his arms.  

“I am, little vixen. Just not the way you want it.” he winked, laughing further at her vexation, the circles at her clit rubbed so slowly, lightly and tightly that she almost forgot to breathe, his cock popping out, pausing, arrowing back to her summit as he groaned, her slick muscles contracting on him tightly.  

He leaned forward, her knees touching to her chest, bearing his weight down through his pelvis right into the very plush of her, kissing her throat before gently clutching her jaw, turning her head to look at him. “Alright, Catherine. I’ll give it to you.”  

And god, how he did, sending her to the edges of heaven, the way he daggered into her without even a hint of control. Long, hard, barbarous thrusts delighted her entire body, her screams filling the room as lava began to bubble and pool at the base of her spine, the release set to erupt, his thumb circling at her bud faster.    

His teeth gritted, whispering a string of cusses as his undoing possessed him, like a demon vying for release. Her entire body tensed rigidly as with fury, longing and fire, she came undone spectacularly beneath him, seeing stars, breathless and sweaty, and oh so very satisfied. 

“Is... do... does...” she panted incoherently, Sean collapsed against her chest, fighting for air. “Does sex like that exist for others, or is it just us? Because wow. Fucking... bloody... wow.” 

He looked up at her, winking with a slight smirk. “Just us, I think.”  

Lying there still inside her, feeling the little flutters of her cunt around him, Sean knew he had to leave. That was what he should have done.

Pushing him up, Rin scrambled out from under him, his cock exiting her with a slippery pop. Her legs felt shaky from the thorough fucking she’d received, but not so much that she couldn’t pick up her clothes and turn to give him a smouldering look. “I’m going to my bedroom. I wouldn’t be against the idea of you joining me.”  

Five minutes later, and he was lying on his back upon a large, white four poster bed, her legs idly draped over his hips as she lay in an L shape with him.  

“How many fits did your mother pitch when she saw this for the first time?” he asked, his hand tracing the outline of the large, black and grey gothic crucifix tattoo upon her ankle.  

“Forty-seven.” He chuckled softly at her exaggeration, Rin continuing. “The woman has no problem with me following in my father’s footsteps, already so far removed from any other girl of my age, but yeah, a tattoo is what tips her over the fucking edge.”  

“Inky needles, the true blight upon the Mulford name.”  

She laughed, enjoying the feel of his hands idly exploring her leg. “Oh yes. Because the long line of aristocratic scoundrels and their various misdeeds who came before her were perfectly acceptable in their scandalous behaviour!”  

Anyone who so much as even took the vaguest of interest in history of the Mulford family knew that they were peppered with scandal throughout the ages. The 16th Lord Mulford, for example, had boasted a penchant for what eventually became not so secret orgies, attended by everyone from socialites to members of the royal family. The very room Rin had just enjoyed being thoroughly ruined in had apparently been the chosen drawing room where the festivities hosted by her great (fourteen times removed) uncle had begun.  

“Seems to run in the family, then, the penchant to be flattened against antique furniture and pounded,” Sean commented when she told him.

She snorted a laugh, moving to sit astride him. “I think it skipped a generation with my mum. Her horror when she found out I was having sex with my first boyfriend. It was fucking hilarious.” 

“I’ve never understood it,” he mused, reaching to run his fingers up and down her thighs, “when people become precious about sex. It’s a basic human need, and as long as you weren’t twelve or anything when you started then I fail to see her gripe.” 

“I wasn’t, I was sixteen. The most amusing part of it was though, that she literally dragged me into my father’s office, like she was on some kind of crusading witch hunt, and he just shrugged. Said he liked Kel and as long as we were taking precautions, she needed to mind her own fucking business.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes as her fingers circled his nipples. “Has no issue with me pointing a gun and pulling a fucking trigger at someone, but shagging? Oh no.”  

“Yeah, we’ll come back to the second part of that statement,” he began, a look of mild disbelief creasing his features. “Kel, as in Kelland Foster?” 

“That’s him. What of it?” 

“Oh, Catherine Elaine.” 

“Don’t use my fucking middle name!” she cried, pinching at the nipples she’d been stroking. 

“Catherine fucking Elaine,” he carried on, laughing at her anguish. She truly detested it. “That man is an absolute prick, and you let him fuck you? Good bloody god.” He knew Kel since they moved in the same criminal circles. He’d never liked him, but put up with him for the sake of the fact that Lenny Foster, his father, was a close associate of the Wallace’s. 

Her defence was reasonable, she thought. “He was pretty, but yes. As I learned a bit of a prick. Pretty goes a long way with a girl, though. We can ignore a lot for pretty.”  

“And what do you ignore to have comfortably allowed me between your legs?” 

It was an interesting question; one she had not expected to receive. “Nothing, because you’re just like me.”  

He frowned. “How? Truly, we barely know one another.” 

“We know one another enough to know we’re cut from the same cloth. Born and conditioned into a life of blood and violence with little in the way of choice. Yes, while we got to make choices regarding our education, you were destined to follow in the footsteps of the famed and feared Finn Wallace just as much as I am with my own father. We were both given everything, except the abundance of choice.” 

Her words penetrated him on a level few reached, her statement profound.  

She got it. She understood. Such was a rare finding, and he didn’t quite know how to process that information, so quite simply, he didn’t.

“Speaking of choice, I must ask you something pertinent,” he began, pulling her down to his level, hands snaking up her back. “What would you like to ride next, hmm? My cock, or my face?” 

Rin was clever enough to know an avoidance tactic when she saw one, but still, with a grin and a shift, as she straddled his head, her choice made.  

[sorenblr]

How's this for an ask: name your favourite videogame visual artists (character designers, environment artists, etc.) and if possible, why you like them in brief

Love the opener on this ask. More of these should have a 'hook'.

I'll try to hit a few that aren't total bank shots. Not going to waste your time with Toriyama, Amano, Kaneko etc., since their work and appeal is already extensively documented. Here are a few from outside the canon:

Mitsuru Nakamura

Perfect expression of the millennial (as in, 'relating to the new millenium') fascination with maximalist pop aesthetics. Flawless 'cute-cool' balance. Playing Gitaroo Man and being exposed to FLCL at approximately the same time made me feel like a fucking god.

I would love for another game with his involvement but I'm aware that a graphical fidelity superior to that of the PS2 would diminish the effect.

Hitoshi Yoneda

Prior to the millennium there was a more liberal crossover between the medium and artists from other commercial disciplines. It was simply more expedient to contract established illustrators like Jun Suemi et al. to decorate covers with lavish oil paints. My favorite work from that era was produced under Yoneda's fairly brief partnership with Sega. All the baroque genre fixings captured with a delicate line. The amount of brilliant watercolor work that was being done at the end of the century is staggering to look back on.

Rika should have that giant robot prosthetic in the actual game and it should take up 30-40% of the frame in every cutscene.

Jack King-Spooner

Jack King-Spooner has been spitting out these fantastic mixed-media works for over a decade. Claymation, line-drawings, watercolors, collage, everything administered with virtuoso ease. Inspiring magnifications of what a game can look and feel like.

His most recent work, Judero, a radical pastiche of folklore from the Scottish borderlands, is the only Kickstarter that I've ever contributed to. Will you wishlist it, or are you some sort of piece of shit...?

[hotchnerobsessed]

Expect The Unexpected - Part 1

@kihli this one is for you ♥️

Sarah x Reid + Fem!Reader x Hotch | When your best friend meets a cute guy at the book store, you accompany her to one of his work get-togethers and his boss sparks your interest.

Warnings: 🤭 SO MUCH FLUFF!

Word Count: 8149

NEXT

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

I don’t usually write stories for Reid, so here’s a little explanation! This is meant to take place in the mid-seasons, approximately 6-8.

**********

It was a typical winter evening in November, the wind whipping up bursts of snow making it next to impossible to see 2 feet in front of you. “Why am I going out in this?” Sarah huffed to herself. She already knew the answer; as much as it meant trekking through the bitter cold, it beat sitting at home alone while you were away visiting family.

You two had moved to Virginia together a few short months earlier, feeling the pull to make a drastic change in your late 20’s and early 30’s. The beautiful hiking trails, the vast job opportunities, the historical value it held, and not to mention the fantastic local food, is what drew you to choose Washington to call home.

Visiting home was something you two always tried your best to do together, but things just hadn’t worked out that way this time. Between work schedules, and family plans, your holiday trips home would have to be made separately this year. You’d felt guilty for deviating from the norm, and leaving without her, but Sarah had been more than understanding, insisting you take the opportunity to travel home while you could.

Aimlessly wandering the aisles of her new favourite book store, Sarah found herself scanning the shelves under large letters that indicated HISTORICAL FICTION. Her fingertips trailed across the spines of the books, skimming the titles hoping something might catch her attention. As luck would have it, something would, but it wasn’t any specific arrangement of letters scrawled across paper.

Always the girl to be hyper-aware of her surroundings, the addition of another person to the previously empty aisle she was standing in caused her to glance over. She felt her breath catch in her chest as she took in the side profile of a young man standing only a few feet away. It only took him a matter of seconds to scan the shelves, pull a book out, and begin skimming the first page.

She hadn’t realized she’d been staring, unable to pull her gaze away from his boyish features. He quickly looked up at her, a soft smile creasing the corners of his mouth, before turning his attention back to the book in hand.

In an attempt to pretend like nothing had happened, and move past any potential awkwardness, Sarah simply reached for the last book her fingertips had made contact with and pulled it off the shelf. Tucking it under her arm momentarily, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed out a quick message before focusing back on the book.

A few hundred miles away, you felt your phone buzz on the couch next to you. Picking it up, you saw Sarah’s name on your screen, accompanied by a frantic message.

📲 Cute boy at the bookstore just smiled at me. It was probably just a courtesy smile (I promise I wasn’t staring), but I’d put my money on he felt a deep connection, and we’re going to get married one day.

Giggling softly, you shook your head lovingly as you typed out a response.

Back at the store, Sarah’s eyes trailed across the cover of the book she’d just picked up; War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. It was one she’d heard talked about, but had never found the time to read herself. Just as she was about to open the front cover and read the synopsis, she felt her phone buzz.

📲 I can hear the wedding bells from here! Ask him for a book recommendation 😉

Letting out a soft laugh, Sarah was about to type out a response of her own when she heard a soft voice beside her, “War and Peace is always the first book of Tolstoy’s to get recognition but I think the true artistry lies in The Prisoner of the Caucasus.”

Not even bothering to open the message and reply, she simply slid her phone back into her pocket as she glanced up at him. She was completely captivated by the warmth in his eyes and the cheeky smile on his face, and before she’d had a chance to respond, he was adding, “Did you know his real name is actually Count Lev Nikolayevich Tolstoy?”

Shaking her head, she finally spoke, “oh! No, I didn’t. That’s kind of cool! I love fun facts like that.”

His face lit up; his head was full of fun facts.

As he continued to explain how the Russian author had settled on the name Leo and began his writing career, Sarah listened intently, taking it all in. She was utterly fascinated, not only by the wealth of knowledge, but by the excitement in his voice as he spoke. He was clearly passionate, and she understood that feeling of desperately wanting to share the things that brought her joy with the people closest to her.

“And what are you reading?” she inquired, motioning towards the book in his hands. As he turned the cover of the book slightly so she could see it, he was about to go into detail about the first 20 pages he’d already skimmed, but she cut his train of thought short, “WAIT. Have you already read THAT much?!” Her eyes were trained on how far into the book his finger was holding his place.

The blush that crept onto his face was clear as day, as he mumbled, “oh, yeah I uh, I can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open, “wow! That’s, umm, that’s really impressive!” He blushed yet again, that smile of his growing even wider, and her heart swelled at the breathtaking sight. “So are you some kind of genius, or what?” she asked playfully, a smile plastered across her face as well.

“Well,” he hesitated slightly, not from embarrassment, but from the nerves he felt welling in his chest any time he looked at her, “I do have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory, so I’d say that’s an accurate assessment.”

Almost unable to contain the thrill she felt while talking to him, she just had to know his name. “I’m Sarah.” Her voice was quiet but firm, confidence rushing through her veins after the brief interaction.

“Spencer.” His voice was just as smooth and confident, even through the flustered smile on his face.

“Well Spencer, it’s nice to meet you.” The blush in her cheeks matched the one that consumed his at the sound of his name falling off her lips.

Logic told her she should be wary of him. The sad reality of meeting new people, especially men, was that their intentions were never clear. But with him, something just felt right. Like they’d known each other for ages. Like she could sit down with him and talk for hours on end. Like no harm could possibly come her way if he was around.

“Likewise.. Sarah..” He involuntarily hesitated when saying her name, his voice catching in his throat as fireworks lit up every corner of his mind.

She giggled softly, half from the butterflies that came to life in her stomach, and half from the flustered smile on his face.

It wasn’t long before she recalled the message from you, and the fact that he’d mentioned another book earlier. If only she’d actually been paying attention, instead of getting lost in his eyes. Now was her opportunity, and she couldn’t pass it up. “I’m sorry, but the, the other book,” she mumbled, “by Tolstoy, that you said you’d recommend over this one?” She lifted her hand, War and Peace still in her grasp.

“Oh! Yes!” He was clearly excited that she’d taken an interest in his opinion, and was eager to tell her more about it. Stepping closer to her, she couldn’t help but take note of the fact that he smelled amazing. And she couldn’t help but stare as his long fingers trailed across the spines of the books in front of her, the same way they had when he was picking out his own book. “Here!” With an excited smile, he pulled the book off the shelf and handed it to her.

Thanking him, she replaced the book she’d picked up earlier, and grasped the new one in her hands. Turning it over to the back, she skimming the synopsis. The story, based on the Russian author’s own experiences, was about two soldiers held prisoner by their enemy. Breathing deep, she looked up at him, “sounds intense.”

Spencer nodded, “it is. But the historical accuracy, based on the fact that Tolstoy was writing about his own trials and tribulations, makes it an intriguing read.”

She couldn’t get enough. Of his enthusiasm. Of his smile. Of his warmth. Now would be the natural time in a conversation with a stranger to thank them and bid each other farewell. But the thrill in her chest just wouldn’t allow her to move past it. With what she felt was bravery that could rival a gladiator preparing for battle, she spoke without a second thought, “I’d love to hear more about it, if you’d, maybe, want to join me for coffee?” She gazed over his shoulder in the direction of the small café in the front corner of the bookstore.

The true cause of the expression on his face was hard to read at first, as his mouth dropped open slightly and his eyebrows raised. She worried that she’d been a little too forward, and was trying to prepare herself for the conversation to come to an end.

Meanwhile, Spencer felt like his mind was short-circuiting, because it was so rare to find a person who didn’t try to stop his ramblings. Never mind a beautiful girl who enjoyed hearing him talk so much that she was voluntarily asking him to continue talking.

Just as Sarah was about to speak up, the slight shake in her head a dead giveaway that she was unsure of her request, Spencer broke the silence. “Would I ever! That would be great!” Glancing back up at him, the huge smile spread across his face was infectious, and soon they were walking side by side through the bookstore.

“So,” he inquired, “you didn’t have anywhere better to be on a Friday night?”

Giggling, she teased playfully, “I could ask you the same thing!”

Smiling bashfully, he glanced down at her, “you’ve got me there.”

Deciding he deserved a proper answer, she continued, “but no, not tonight. My best friend is back home visiting family for the holidays. The two of us love spending hours just wandering through bookstores, so I found my way here. I think it makes me feel a little closer to her.”

His warm smile tugged at her heart, “yeah, I get that. I don’t get to see my mom as often as I’d like to, so I’m always looking for things to keep her near me.”

The way his voice trembled slightly told her it was a touchy subject, so she simply nodded in understanding, not wanting to pry and ask for details. That was a conversation for another time, if there was ever going to be another time, and she hoped desperately that there would be.

After ordering their drinks, they made their way to the cozy seating area and chose a table for two. As they sat down across from each other, she couldn’t help but note the ease she felt with him. Any other day, talking to new people made her a little anxious, but there was an air of certainty around him that just made her feel safe.

She would come to find out later that he was thinking the exact same thing in that moment. Not one who usually put himself out there in social situations, there was just something about her, the warmth in her smile, and the comfort he felt in talking to her, that made him want to open up.

Diving straight into the book, he explained everything from Tolstoy’s childhood, to the history of the location where he was held hostage. Through it all she sat and listened intently, even chiming in every once in a while with her own tidbits of knowledge, and asking questions for him to expand on.

It didn’t take long for their conversation to shift to work and personal life. She found out that he worked for the FBI, in their Behavioural Analysis Unit, and that his title was Dr. Spencer Reid. Something about how official that sounded had her mind reeling. It also explained the comfort she felt around him; he made his living helping people, and protecting them from harm.

She filled him in on how it had only been a few months since you two had moved to the city, and how you hadn’t met many new people yet. His face lit up, “I don’t mean to be.. too forward.. but one of my coworkers is hosting a Thanksgiving get-together, and I think it’d be great if you would go. It’d be a good place to get to know more people. My team is amazing.”

Her initial excitement soon turned to hesitation for a couple reasons. She was unsure about meeting a large group of new people, in a new city, without you by her side. But she was grateful enough as it was that he had even asked, that she didn’t want to suggest bringing a plus one and overstepping his invite.

The delay in her response made it clear she was hesitant, and it didn’t take much for Spencer to figure out what the cause was. Speaking up once more, he extended the offer to you as well, “if your friend will be home by then, she’d be more than welcome to join, too!”

Her eyes smiled back at him, clearly surprised at how easily he’d been able to figure out exactly what she was thinking. “Profiler.. right.” she reminded herself; that was going to take some getting used to. “Okay!” She accepted the offer eagerly, “thank you so much, Spencer.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he cooed, that blush spreading across his face yet again.

They sat there and talked for well over an hour, until the speakers throughout the bookstore informed them that it would be closing in a short 10 minutes. Looking back at each other, Sarah was the one to take the first step, “let me give you my number. You can give me more details about that supper.”

Nodding his head excitedly, Spencer pulled out a small notepad and pen from his bag, and slid them across the table. It wasn’t what she’d expected, but the giddy feeling that gripped her chest made her feel like she was on cloud nine. How could anyone be so pure, so innocent, so genuine?

Picking up the pen, she scrawled her name and number across one of the pages, before sliding it back to him. As he glanced down, Spencer smiled wide at the tiny heart she’d added beside her name.

Standing from the table, they slowly made their way to the front doors, as Spencer offered, “can I walk you to your vehicle?”

Laughing softly, she admitted, “oh no, I walked here.” The surprise on his face made her laugh, as he looked from her, out to the still blizzarding weather, then back at her again. “A little snow never hurt no one,” she teased.

Shaking his head, a soft smile finally pulled at his lips at her joke, but he insisted, “well, then let me give you a ride home? I’d feel much better knowing you got home safe.” Not one who typically drove either, rather he avoided it when he could, something inside him earlier had told him that he should drive tonight. He’d never been so thankful for this stormy weather in his life.

Her eyes locked with his, a thrill running through her as they simply gazed at each other for what felt like an eternity. “Okay,” she finally agreed, her voice soft.

“Okay,” he repeated, equally as flustered.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

That night, after Spencer had dropped Sarah off at home, you two had spent an hour or more on a video call discussing everything that had happened. The thrill in your chest knowing your best friend had not only met a cute guy, but things had easily clicked, had your mind racing; you couldn’t contain the joy you felt for her.

“Yes!!” she squealed excitedly, “I could hardly believe it myself!! But he wants me, US, to go!!”

“The second I get home we’re planning our outfits,” you admitted.

“Oh don’t you worry, I’ve already got ideas. SO many ideas. It’s going to be difficult to pick just one,” she joked.

You laughed, “why does that not surprise me?"

Time flew by, and before you knew it you were back home and at your apartment, wrapping Sarah in a big hug. “I missed you!”

She squeezed you even tighter, “I missed you, too!”

As you filled her in on your eventful thanksgiving with your family, you both dug through your closets in an attempt to piece together outfits to impress. Sarah wanted something to catch Spencer’s eye, draw him in even more than she already had. And you just wanted something that you felt comfortable in; no ulterior motives in mind, but simply wanting to feel good in your body.

The couple outfit choices Sarah’d had in mind weren’t quite working out the way she’d envisioned, so you chimed in with a suggestion of, “maybe we’ll have better luck at the mall?”

She smiled wide at that, and in a matter of minutes you were browsing the aisles of the various stores. Each of you had a few options thrown over your arms and were making your way towards the change rooms when Sarah saw it; it was a simple dress really, the spaghetti straps sewn into the shimmery silver material that glittered beautifully under the display lights. Typically you’d have thought that dress might be too formal for a thanksgiving dinner, but Spencer had informed Sarah that it was semi-formal attire, and the home it was being hosted at was “a mansion.”

“A mansion?!” You could remember being shocked by that detail of the invite. That’s what ultimately lead you both to the mall, rather than choosing something you already owned; nothing felt right for that setting.

“Ooo you definitely have to try that on!” you encouraged.

She didn’t need to be asked twice, flipping through to find her size and adding it to her pile. Too excited to wait, it was the first thing she tried on, and the second she stepped out of the change room, your jaw dropped to the floor. “YES. That’s the one!!”

“You think so?” You could tell she was a little uncertain, the dress was tighter than ones she typically wore, and barely reached her knees. She wasn’t sure if it was too much.

Nodding your head profusely, you repeated, “yes! Absolutely.” With your hands on either side of her arms, you stepped behind her to look at her in the mirror, “you look stunning! Spencer won’t know what hit him.”

That finally got a smile out of her, and she nodded her head in shy agreement. “Okay.. Now it’s your turn!”

You laughed softly before slipping into a change room of your own. You went through a couple different combinations of the things you’d picked out until you found the perfect set. “I think this might be it,” you stated, somewhat nervously, as you stepped out from behind the curtain.

Sarah’s face lit up as she took in the way the maroon bodysuit-style top, patterned with subtle lacy flowers, was complimented perfectly by the high-waisted black pants. “1000% YES. It’s totally you!!”

Turning slightly, you glanced in that same mirror and couldn’t help the pride you felt at how you looked. You’d never been the kind of girl who got excited dressing up and going out somewhere, but something about this felt different. You felt hopeful, like maybe if you put yourself out there, especially knowing you’d have your best friend by your side, things might finally start looking up.

“Besides,” she added cheekily, “Spencer can’t be the only cutie the FBI employs. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone will catch the attention of one of his friends.” She nudged your arm slightly, causing heat to rise in your face, and hope to swell in your chest.

Making your way to the front of the store, new outfits in hand, you made your purchases and walked arm-in-arm back to your vehicle. The excitement both of you felt at getting all dolled up and going for a fancy dinner was overwhelming, and you both willed time to move faster.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Before you knew it, the day had arrived. It was a brisk, but sunny day, and neither of you could contain your excitement. As luck would have it, you’d both had the opportunity to leave your jobs early, so you took full advantage of it, racing home to get ready.

After helping each other with the final touches on your outfits, assisting with the taming of a stray hair, or straightening out of eyeliner, or choosing between two sets of jewelry, you were finally ready to take on the evening. Glancing at yourselves in the mirror once more, you couldn’t help the smiles that creased your eyes, confidence rushing through your veins. You felt like no matter what, you could take on the world, as long as you had each other.

Pulling up in front of the address Spencer had sent to Sarah, both of your eyes grew wide, and as you looked at each other, laughter erupted inside the vehicle. You couldn’t believe just how gorgeous the house was.

“And suddenly I feel very under-dressed,” you teased, watching a couple walking hand-in-hand up to the front door, dressed to the nines.

“Hey, we look hot, okay?” she encouraged.

Nodding your head, you smiled, “you’re right.”

With that, you both hooked your arms in each others like you always did, and made your way up the front steps, and through the massive doors of the stunning home. You’d been told to just let yourself in, and as you stepped into the large entry way, you both looked around in awe, your arms dropping to your sides. Glancing at each other, you couldn’t hide the smiles that spread across your faces.

While you were busy taking in your breathtaking surroundings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that you’d caught the attention of a man in the next room. His dark hair was styled simply, pushed back from his face with a small amount of styling gel and his fingers. The button up shirt he’d tucked into his dress pants hugged his chest flawlessly, and the tie that hung around his neck pulled everything together.

Aaron hadn’t been invested in the conversation happening around him, as his eyes travelled across the room. That’s when you’d walked in, and immediately captivated him. The wonder and awe on your face brought a smile to his, and he couldn’t quite pull his eyes away from you. The way your hair fell across your shoulders, the way your shirt accentuated your curves, and the way your smile lit up the room.

He wanted to talk to you. He wanted to know your name. But he was unsure of how to approach you. He’d never seen you at any of these gatherings before, and he didn’t think he recognized your friend either. “Who is she? Where did she come from? Where has she been hiding all this time?” These questions plagued his mind; he needed to find a way to introduce himself.

He watched intently as Morgan made his way up to both of you. It didn’t take a profiler to see that he’d never met either of you before, but he was making his interest known. It wasn’t until Spencer made his way through the crowd towards you, his interest in your friend clear as day, that Aaron knew he’d found his way in.

Across the room, you and Sarah stood side by side, as a handsome man with a flashy smile walked up beside you. “Well hello ladies! I don’t think we’ve met. I know I would remember those beautiful faces.”

You were almost flattered, but you could both tell by the bravado in his voice, and the confidence in his words, that he’d probably used that exact line on other girls who’d arrived before you, and you were sure you wouldn’t be the last.

“I don’t think we have, no,” Sarah was the first to respond, reaching her hand out. “I’m Sarah.”

You extended your hand in greeting, “and I’m Y/N.”

Shaking both of your hands, he asked, “so what brings you here this evening?”

Before either of you could answer, Spencer appeared and Sarah’s eyes locked with his. “Sarah! I’m so glad you made it!” There was no ignoring the smile that spread like wildfire across her face at his greeting.

The excitement in his voice made your heart swell. Sarah had told you all about him, but actually seeing him in person, hearing how he spoke to her, and seeing the way he looked at her, solidified your approval of him.

Morgan snapped his head in Reid’s direction, eyes wide; of all the reasons he expected you two to be there, Spencer was nowhere near the top of that list. But it didn’t take long for the shock on his face to shift to one of pride. “Play on, player,” he teased, slapping his hand against Spencer’s shoulder. “Sarah, it’s been lovely meeting you.” He shook her hand once more. “And Y/N, maybe I’ll see you around later,” he added with a wink.

As Morgan stepped away, Spencer’s face was scrunched up with embarrassment, “I’m sorry about him.”

You both laughed, “he seems harmless,” Sarah admitted.

“That’s a level of confidence I wish I had,” you teased, causing both of them to laugh along with you. “You must be Spencer,” you turned your focus back to him, before adding cheekily, “Sarah has told me a lot about you.” Glancing over at her quickly, you noticed the slight blush in her cheeks.

You saw the way his eyes focused on her, a soft pink rising in his cheeks as well, before taking in the stunning dress she had on. He finally looked back up at you, “likewise, Y/N.”

You laughed at that, “only the good things I hope.”

Nodding his head enthusiastically, not quite picking up on your joke, he looked back and forth between you frantically, “oh yes! It’s all been good!”

Sarah’s smile grew, his boyish innocence made her feel all giddy inside. Laughing softly, she nudged you with her elbow, “she’s just teasing, you can ignore her.”

The relief on his face was evident, finally understanding it was your attempt at making a playful remark, and not purposefully trying to make things awkward.

“Well then,” Spencer spoke once more, reaching out his arm to Sarah, “let me show you two around, I’ll introduce you to the team.”

Graciously accepting his offer, Sarah tucked her arm under his. As they took a step forward, she turned her head back to look at you momentarily and you shared a knowing look; one that effortlessly conveyed her excitement, and in return showed her how impressed you were with his kind and gentle nature. Smiling at each other one last time, she finally turned her attention back to where he was leading her, and you followed close behind.

It wasn’t long before you’d seen the entire first floor of the house, and most importantly the kitchen, where rows of warming trays were set up, and would soon be filled with delicious catered food. You’d also been introduced to just about everyone on the team. Morgan said hello again, this time with Garcia glued to his side; you could tell she brought so much light to any room she was in. Rossi graciously welcomed you to his home, and Prentiss and JJ immediately made you feel at home in their BAU family.

“The only person I haven’t introduced you to yet is our Unit Chief, Hotch,” Spencer stated as he glanced around the large living room, “he’s got to be around here somewhere, he’s hard to miss.”

You and Sarah began glancing around the room as well, even though neither of you knew exactly who you were looking for. In your efforts, a tall man with dark features caught your eye. The way he smiled as he chatted with the person he was talking to made your breath catch in your chest; he was so handsome. Just as you were about to look away, he glanced over at you, and it was almost as if he knew you were there, as if he’d looked over specifically at you. A flustered smile graced your lips, but you were soon pulled from your daydream by Spencer’s voice, “there he is!”

When you looked back at the two of them, Spencer was completely unaware of the moment you’d just shared with the handsome stranger, but Sarah had seen it all play out. “That was some intense eye contact,” she whispered.

Raising your eyebrows at her in agreement, you both glanced up at Spencer who spoke regretfully, “he looks like he’s busy right now, maybe I can introduce you a bit a later.”

Sarah caught on before you did, so she asked her next question not-so-innocently, in an attempt to nudge you in the right direction. “Which one is he?”

Before Spencer could answer, she glanced from you, to the man you’d just been caught staring at, then back at you. Your eyes grew wide with realization, just as Spencer confirmed, “the tall one with the blue tie, and dark hair.”

“Noted,” was all you could muster.

This time, Spencer caught on to your flustered mannerisms. “Or we could go say hi right now, if you’d like.”

You shook your head in an attempt to brush it off, “oh no, no it’s okay. I’m sure we’ll run into him later.”

Spencer and Sarah glanced at each other knowingly, before agreeing to leave it alone, and for that you were thankful.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

As the evening went on, you mingled some more, meeting new people every few minutes in the large crowd. At one point in time, after the meal had been served and everyone had filled up on the phenomenal food, Sarah and Spencer had made their way to a quiet corner in the back of the house. You’d encouraged it, knowing she was there to get to know him better, and you weren’t about to stand in her way.

Thankfully, you’d bumped into a few now-familiar faces in your travels. Garcia had such a warmth about her, and you immediately felt yourself drawn towards her. She welcomed you with open arms and you found yourself spending most of the evening with her. At one point in time, she’d been talking to Morgan and JJ, when Morgan asked, “has anyone seen the boss man tonight? He’s got to be here somewhere.”

You waited, hoping someone who actually knew him would chime in, but no one did. Your voice was quiet as you spoke, “I.. I think Spencer said he’d seen him in the front room earlier.”

Everyone’s eyes were trained on you, and you immediately felt your face flush. You were sure you hadn’t said too much, after all it was Spencer who had pointed him out, and yet you still felt as if the gaze you’d shared with the handsome man earlier was written across your forehead.

Morgan spoke up again, “ohhh so you’ve met Mr. Large And In Charge have you?”

You were starting to get the sense that he loved saying things just to get a reaction out of people, and judging by the look on everyone’s faces, you were right. Apparently being new to the group didn't mean you were free and clear of his playful remarks.

“Derek..” JJ warned.

“What??” he feigned innocence, “you know he’s single, right?”

“Very subtle,” you thought to yourself, as a flustered laugh escaped, “and why are you telling me this?”

JJ stepped in again, elbowing Morgan in the side as she spoke, “no reason. Derek needs to learn to stop meddling in other people’s personal lives. Especially someone he's JUST met.”

You smiled at her in thanks. You weren’t overly bothered by his teasing, but it was a little awkward when you took into consideration the fact that you hardly knew these people. Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t even officially met him yet. But you decided not to let it bother you. If anything, it made you want to find him and get to know him even more.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Meanwhile, in a quiet corner at the back of the house, Sarah and Spencer had found a spot where they could simply enjoy each other's company. As he'd lead her through the crowd, her arm still tucked under his, he slowly lowered his hand and she followed his lead. In a matter of seconds, their palms were pressed together, fingers intertwined effortlessly.

The seconds their hands connected, Spencer’s mind went blank. Quiet. Calm. The most at peace he’d felt in years. There were no more nagging anxieties. No more fears of being seen for who he truly was. No more worries about whether he was too much, and yet not enough at the same time.

Sarah felt it, too. She immediately knew she’d never feel alone again. She’d no longer have to worry about past what-ifs, because none of them mattered anymore. None of them would ever be able to hold a candle to the safety and security she felt with him.

But was it too soon to feel this way? If you’d asked either of them mere weeks earlier, they would have told you you were crazy. Love at first sight wasn’t real. That was a thing of fairytales and Hollywood movies. Yet here they were, both feeling as if they held the entire world in the palm of their hand, and not being afraid to take that leap.

Standing next to the patio windows, the brilliant moon shining through the sheer curtains, her hand never left his. With their fingers intertwined, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I’m glad you came tonight.”

Looking up into his kind eyes, a flustered smile pulled at the corner of her lips, as she admitted, “I’m glad you asked.”

Sharing a soft smile, unable to pull their eyes away from each other, time seemed to stand still. Knowing the evening would be coming to an end soon, Spencer knew he couldn’t just let her walk away; he couldn’t stand the thought of pushing his feelings down the way he usually did, risking another man sweeping her off her feet before he built up the nerves to. With his mind clear, he knew what he needed to do.

Gazing back at him, she wasn’t sure if she was afraid her emotions were written across her face too clearly, or if she was afraid it wouldn’t be clear enough. The fact that she felt such a deep pull towards him this soon was terrifying, but it was strangely refreshing. She felt like her mind and body were finally awake, after having hidden herself away from the world, in the bustle of moving to a new place and attempting to get settled.

Uncertain of whether anyone was watching, but uncaring if they were, Spencer slowly lifted his free hand to the side of her face. Gently brushing his knuckles against her cheek, he tucked her hair behind her ear, before gazing down at her parted lips. His eyes lingered momentarily, before he finally looked her in the eyes once again.

The slight nod of her head, combined with the fact that she’d moved her free hand to his waist, fingers grasping the soft material of his cardigan, was all the confirmation he needed. Slowly, patiently, he leaned down, anticipation building with every second that passed. With one final tug on his shirt, he finally connected his lips to hers, tender, and soft.

The first to deepen the kiss, Sarah let go of his hand, wrapping both of her arms around his waist and pulling him close. His hands both found their way to her cheeks, cradling her face gently, as he pressed his lips against hers with even more passion.

Spencer hardly recognized himself, how bold and confident he had been all evening, and now in this moment. She brought out the best in him, made him feel unafraid of being seen or judged; she made him feel alive.

Finally pulling away, not wanting to get too carried away to the point of being unable to stop, he exhaled deep, their lips only inches apart. He placed one more kiss against her lips, then one on the tip of her nose, and one last one against her forehead.

Sarah couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. As their surroundings slowly faded back in, she gazed up at him through a bashful grin, wondering if anyone had witnessed their exchange, but ultimately being unfazed by the thought.

She spoke softly once more, “I’m really glad you asked..”

That caused a laugh to rumble in Spencer’s chest as well, as they gleefully pulled each other into their warm embrace, his chin resting flawlessly on top of her head.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Across the house, you stood alone not far from the entryway. You’d excused yourself from the conversation earlier, although thankful to be included, you didn’t want to intrude on the bond they all had with each other. You’d made your way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, your mouth was strangely dry after your nerves had got the better of you.

Glass in hand, you took small sips as you made your way towards the back of the house. Your eyes immediately recognized the sparkle of Sarah’s dress through the sea of people, and you couldn’t help but smile as you came to realize you’d caught the tail end of what was surely their first kiss. Your heart swelled as you saw him kiss her nose, then her forehead, before pulling her into his chest.

The joy you felt for your best friend left you with a strange mix of emotions swirling through your mind. You felt guilty for seeing their happiness and secretly yearning for your own. As you stood there alone, heart full of both happiness and longing, you were unaware of the man approaching you.

It was a strong, yet gentle voice that pulled you out of your daydream. “So you’re a friend of Spencer’s?”

Glancing up to the side, you were shocked to find the tall man with dark hair and blue tie standing next to you; the infamous Unit Chief of the FBI’s BAU. You’d needed a second to collect your thoughts, but you responded through a light laugh, “oh, uhm, well technically he invited me, but I don’t really know him that well. The invite was more for my friend.” You spoke as you motioned in their direction.

He nodded his head in understanding, “ahh I see. So how long have you two known each other?”

Smiling softly, you glanced from him back at Sarah and Reid deep in conversation. “It’s been, oh, 12 years now? But it feels like forever. She’s my person.”

A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he followed your line of sight to where they stood. “It’s pretty clear Spencer sees something in her. She must be a great girl.”

Nodding your head proudly, your smile grew, “she is.” Turning your attention back to him, you inquired, “and him?”

A content sigh hugged Aaron's chest as he spoke, “he’s as genuine as they get. A little quirky, but it’s endearing.”

“I think we’re all a little quirky in our own way,” you added playfully.

Smiling down at you, his eyes scanned your face, and you couldn’t help the feeling that welled up inside you. That same eye contact you'd shared earlier was back, only this time you felt it in your bones, the proximity of your body to his making it hard to deny your attraction to him any longer. You could tell he was thinking the same thing, as his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer before he admitted, “you’ve got a point there.”

You couldn’t help the curiosity you felt towards him. The couple people you’d talked to said he was a great boss, but he was stern, and joked that he didn’t smile. You’d already seen him smile twice within a matter of minutes. Maybe these people just hadn’t taken the time to get to know him outside of work.

“So, Spencer said your name was.. Hotch?” you hesitated, unsure if you’d remembered correctly.

He laughed softly, “Hotchner, that’s my last name. But everyone just calls me Hotch.”

“Ahhh,” you sighed, “makes sense. No one ever calls you by your first name?!”

He could hear the surprise in your voice, but also detected the hint of curiosity in the way your pupils dilated as you asked the question. “Not often, no,” he laughed softly. “Let’s try this introduction again,” he spoke as he reached a hand out to you, “hi, I’m Aaron.”

A flustered grin spread across your face as you grasped his hand in yours. You felt electricity rush through your veins from the point of contact, as it coursed all the way through your body. His warm palm against yours, his fingers wrapped firmly around your hand, and his eyes trained on you, made you weak in the knees.

“Y/N..” you spoke softly, “it’s nice to meet you, Aaron.”

He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt at hearing his name fall off your lips. He was already so far in the deep end there was no use in even trying to swim back to safety. With his eyes locked on yours, he finally let go of your hand as he repeated, "Y/N.." his voice trailing off slightly, "well I hope my team has treated you well this evening."

A comforting feeling washed over you as you recalled the interactions you'd had. Yes, even the ones with Derek. "Everyone has been very welcoming."

"Good, that's good," he stumbled over his words slightly, and you could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he was holding himself back. He wanted to tell you that he thought you were stunning; effortlessly captivating. That he'd noticed you the second you walked through the door. That no one in the room compared to the beauty and grace you radiated.

Just as you were about to speak again, you were interrupted by the addition of two people to your conversation, “I see you’ve finally met Hotch!” Spencer’s voice rang in your ears.

Glancing over, you immediately made eye contact with Sarah, the smile on her face clear as day as she looked from you, up at him, then back at you. Biting your bottom lip to hide a smile of your own, you gave her a look of “not now..” and she rolled her eyes playfully.

The interaction between you wasn’t lost on the two men, as they both shared a knowing glance. That’s when you finally spoke up, “yeah, yes, I’ve officially met your whole team now.” You’d referenced the rest of the team in an attempt to not draw any more attention to the heat rushing through your veins.

“I can’t say the same quite yet,” Sarah added, reaching her hand out to Hotch, “I’m Sarah.”

Shaking her hand graciously, he nodded as he spoke through a smile, “pleasure to meet you.”

You all stood there and talked for what felt like an eternity, with the comfort of people who had known each other for years. You took note of how right it felt to be standing there, just the 4 of you, talking about life. It was all very natural, like fate had brought you together. Younger you would have laughed at such a preposterous thought, but you couldn’t ignore that the gut feeling you’d had in that store a week earlier, the one that told you to put yourself out there, had maybe been right.

As the conversation slowly died down, Sarah finally admitted, “I think we should maybe get going, don’t you think Y/N? I know you have to work early in the morning.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall that you’d been oblivious to until now, you were thankful Sarah had been paying attention. “You’re right, it is getting a bit late.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that the evening was coming to an end; you’d truly enjoyed meeting new people in a city you were still growing into. You could only hope that this wasn’t the last time you would see everyone, and the way Spencer rested his hand on the small of Sarah’s back as you all made your way towards the door washed those worries away. This was only the beginning.

“Well thank you, Spencer, for inviting us to join you all tonight. We had a wonderful time.” Sarah glanced at you, and you nodded in agreement, before she looked back up at the boyish grin that creased his features.

“Thank you for coming! Both of you!” The excitement in his voice was clear as day.

Smiling at Spencer once more, you finally turned your attention back to Aaron, who had joined in the venture towards the front door. The way he looked at you told you that the connection you’d felt wasn’t one sided, and the thought made your stomach jump into your throat. You found yourself unable to speak, so he did first, “it was great meeting you.”

Your voice was shaky as you responded with a simple, “you too.”

Only a couple feet away, Spencer had both of Sarah’s hands held tight in his grasp, “you have my number. Please let me know when you get home safe.”

A soft, “I will,” was all she could muster.

With one final look shared between them, Spencer brought one of her hands up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss against her knuckles. You and Aaron, who had both caught the tender moment out of the corner of your eyes, smiled wide.

With your final goodbyes being shared, Spencer gave both of you a little wave, before you turned and pushed open one of the large doors, immediately linking your arms together. What neither of you had seen before the door closed, was the look that Spencer and Aaron shared; pride welling in Aaron’s chest at the confidence Spencer was finally showing, and Spencer smiling slyly at the sight of his strong, private, boss all flustered.

“Soooo..” you prompted, “how was the kiss?!”

Sarah blushed immediately, “oh my God, you saw that?!”

You laughed, “you were in the middle of a crowded room! Lots of people saw it.”

Bringing her hand up to cover her face, she let out a tiny shriek of excitement, “I might almost be embarrassed, except it was SO GOOD.”

Grasping her hand that was tucked around your arm, you squeezed it tight, “better than you imagined?”

Groaning dramatically, she admitted, “SO much better.”

You giggled along with her, the excitement you felt for her consuming your mind. “Good!! I’m so happy for you!!”

You’d reached your vehicle by now, and as you both climbed into your seats and you started the engine, Sarah turned to face you. She leaned on the center console eagerly, “and..” she teased, “you and Hotch?” a cheeky grin plastered across her face.

Heat rose in your cheeks as you thought back to the interaction. Swallowing around the tightness in your throat, you informed her, “Aaron..”

“WAIT. You got his first name?!” she squealed.

All you could do was nod, still unsure if you were ready to let yourself dive deep into this new crush.

“I told you,” she added, “the FBI was bound to have a cutie for you, too.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer ; @red-red-rogue ; @chibsytelford ; @hannahufflepuff ; @mrs-ssa-hotch ; @ivyflowers13 ; @rousethemouse ; @emobabeyy

[magicshopaholic]

Movie Night (Hoseok x OC)

Summary: Hoseok hosts movie night, but finds he can’t concentrate with all the flirting.

Pairing: Hoseok x OC

Genre: Humour, unreolved issues, hints of angst

Word count: 5.8 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Alcohol, spoilers for the movie Get Out!

A/N: Took me a while but my favourite children are back :') Contains one of the first scenes of theirs I ever envisioned. This fic takes place approximately four months after Double Take, about a week after Stranger Things. Can't wait to hear what you guys think <3

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness @xjoonchildx @tarahardcore, @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: “should i stay or should i go” by the clash

hoseok masterlist | main masterlist

A phone call wakes Chanyeol up before his alarm does.

Clearing his throat as his eyes stay shut, he fumbles for his phone on the hotel bedside table and answers it. “Hello?”

“Hey, what’s up? Listen, you’re coming over today, right?” Hoseok asks, without waiting for a response to his first question.

It takes Chanyeol a couple of seconds to process these many words. “What?”

“Today,” repeats his best friend patiently. “You’re coming over?”

“Uh - yeah.” He frowns, rubbing at his eyes. “Why?” 

“Just checking.”

“No, why as in, why are you calling and not texting?”

“I did text you, but I didn’t hear back.”

“Yeah, because it’s -“ Chanyeol moves the phone away from his ear to squint at the screen “- eight in the morning on a Saturday. Dude, what are you even doing up?”

“Dance practice,” supplies Hoseok. “Anyway, I wanted to check with you…” There’s a pause while his voice trails away, sounding uncertain.

Chanyeol frowns, brain still fuzzy. “I know your address. You texted it to me.”

“No, I know…” Hoseok clears his throat. “I was wondering if I should invite your sister.”

No part of that sentence makes sense to Chanyeol in this context. “My sister?”

“Yeah… wait, you know she’s in Seoul, right?”

He scoffs, sitting up slightly now and wincing as he straightens his back. “She let me in on it, yeah. I was going to have lunch with her today. How do you know she’s in Seoul?” Something occurs to him then. “Wait, did she call you or something?”

“No, I ran into her a couple months ago.”

“Where?”

“The - the grocery store. Anyway, my point is,” he continues quickly, “now that I know she’s here - and you’re here - should I invite her?”

“Um, I dunno. It’s your house, man.”

“Right.”

When Hoseok says nothing else, Chanyeol frowns. “Since when do you hang out with my sister, anyway?”

“Since never. It’s just, you know, polite. Since I ran into her and everything,” he explains. “And because you’re her brother. I mean, you have lunch with her and then leave to come over to my place when she knows I’m here - and she knows that I know she’s here -“ Hoseok exhales, and Chanyeol can practically see him pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

“You know, she’s not going to care,” says Chanyeol slowly. “She probably has plans already.”

“Oh. How - how do you know?”

“Because she’s had plans every single weekend since she turned sixteen.” He has no idea where this conversation is going. “But like I said: it’s your house. You do whatever you want.”

“Yeah.” Hoseok is quiet for a moment, and Chanyeol can tell he hasn’t heard a single word. “Alright, cool,” he says after a few seconds. “I’ll see you later today. Bring beer. And about Chaeyoung - you’re probably right.”

“Sure I am,” yawns Chanyeol, already sinking back into bed.

“Yeah, like, it would be polite to call her but if she’s got plans - I mean, I wouldn’t want to put her out -“

“Exactly,” he mumbles against his pillow.

“Maybe if you were moving to Seoul or something - but let’s not overthink this too much…”

The next thing Chanyeol knows, he wakes up to the sun streaming brightly into his room and his phone still in his hand. He vaguely remembers speaking to Hoseok; just to check that he hasn’t missed something important, he brings the phone up and checks his notifications to see one message from his best friend.

You know what? Just text me her number.

—

Hoseok ends up giving Chanyeol a lift to his house, when it turns out that the latter’s hotel is less than ten minutes away from the studio. 

“- heard that I couldn’t sleep so they gave me - and get this - specialty foam pillows, because apparently that’s a thing now -“

Hoseok guffaws as he pulls into his building. “Did they help? Like, should I get a bunch for my house?”

“I mean, they were soft,” allows Chanyeol.

“That’s what made them special?”

“No, they had some weird vibrator thing inside.” When Hoseok raises his eyebrows, Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t like that, dumbass.”

“Hey, I believe you. No wonder you didn’t get my texts.”

“That and the jet lag,” allows Chanyeol, unstrapping himself as the car switches off. “But I’m all well-rested now.”

“Good. I invited a couple of my friends over, too. That’s cool, right?”

“Sure. Like I said: I got my sleep and I’m ready to, like -” He makes a vague gesture with his hands and moves his neck around “- party.” When Hoseok snorts, Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “Knock it off, not all of us are professional idols.”

“There’s an unprofessional kind?” Hoseok chortles at his own joke while his best friend clicks his tongue, punching his shoulder as they enter the apartment. “Beer’s in the fridge. I have soju and vodka, too, if you want it.”

“Vodka? It’s four pm.”

“Yeah, but you’re ready to party.”

“Not if it’s a party of one,” disagrees Chanyeol, making his way over to the fridge and emerging with a can of Budweiser. “I’ll wait for your friends before I start getting shitfaced. Or I’ll wait until it gets dark,” he adds, shrugging.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” says Hoseok slowly, leaning sideways against the TV cabinet as Chanyeol settles on the couch, “I invited your sister.”

To his surprise, Chanyeol chuckles. “Yeah, she told me. She was even more surprised than I was.”

“She - oh.” He frowns. “Okay. Why?” When his best friend simply raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, okay, I know why, but… do you think it’s that weird that I did? I mean, I ran into someone from my childhood and then her brother comes over to my house a couple months later - wouldn’t it be rude not to call her?”

Chanyeol seems to think it over before sighing. “You know, you’re right? And if it were anyone else, I’m sure none of us would give it a second thought.”

“But she was the annoying kid that lived next door,” finishes Hoseok, rolling his eyes. “That was, like, a hundred years ago. I’m over it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she is, too. I mean, she is coming, after all.”

“Huh.” It hadn’t occurred to Hoseok until this moment that he was worried at all that she wouldn’t. But there’s a strange sort of relief at the confirmation from Chanyeol himself, that somewhere out there, his best friend’s sister isn’t mad at him anymore.

Hoseok hadn’t given Chaeyoung much thought since he’d run into her at the liquor store; not because he didn’t care, but because the majority of his mind space in those few months had been at the studio, and the rest on rehearsals. Still, it had been nice to see her - a blast from his past that, he’d realised only later, was a pleasant reminder of the families he missed so much.

It hadn’t even occurred to him to mention the chance meeting to Chanyeol. An insane part of him felt like he was helping her hide something; the fact that she was in Seoul, and in a liquor store no less, was far too incongruous for him to wrap his mind around. Chanyeol, he felt, would probably burst a blood vessel if he knew. 

Besides, Chanyeol had been in Tokyo for the last two years, working for an investment bank that sucked the very life and soul out of him; the last thing he needed was to worry about his sister. Hoseok hadn’t considered reaching out to her again, though, not until Chanyeol mentioned he was visiting Seoul and Hoseok had remembered with a jolt that he’d been a horrible friend for not looking out for little Chaeyoung while her brother was overseas. 

So, it seemed only natural that he should invite Chaeyoung as well. Just the image of both siblings at lunch, the younger one mentioning how she’d run into Hoseok months ago, Chanyeol’s confusion at why they’d never spoken again, him coming over and demanding an explanation, Hoseok stuttering about his busy schedule, Chanyeol shouting tearfully that he’d betrayed him on every level, a vase smashing somewhere -

No, it was better that he invited her before things escalated. After all, she’d been perfectly pleasant at the liquor store and there was nothing to say that, given time, they might not become good acquaintances themselves. He’d called Jimin and Jungkook over for this exact reason; he figured Chaeyoung might be more comfortable with people closer to her own age. Taehyung had been invited as well but he’d declined, and given recent events, Hoseok hadn’t pushed. 

Jimin and Jungkook arrive soon. There’s some initial whispering in the hall, where Jimin mutters with exasperation that he hadn’t quite tried to bring Taehyung along, and Jungkook anxiously asks Hoseok if Chanyeol is “nice”.

“Just - get in there,” instructs Hoseok, steering them into the living room where Chanyeol is sitting on the edge of the couch, talking into his phone. He raises a hand in greeting and apologetically mouths “sorry”, leaving Hoseok to watch as his band members dive for his alcohol stash.

Introductions take place after that; there’s a bit of small talk that follows it, about work, about Tokyo, about what Hoseok hyung was like before Bangtan. Hoseok doesn’t know if he’s imagining it, but there’s a definite awkwardness in the air that seems to be stemming from nothing in particular. He tries his best to intervene and bring the topic to something as neutral as possible, but eventually he’s forced to admit that idols and investment bankers may not have much in common at all.

Chanyeol, for all his talent, has always been a bit of an introvert, enough that he looks for others to usually lead a conversation - indeed, Hoseok had always been his consummate extroverted friend. Jimin he can tell is trying to be as normal and welcoming as possible, but something seems to be troubling him. Hoseok makes a mental note to ask him about it. On the other corner of the couch, Jungkook sits quietly, eyes wide and curious as he takes in the awkward conversation and chuckles appropriately.

This goes on for nearly twenty minutes. Now under pressure to turn this evening around, Hoseok is just about to propose selecting the movie when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it,” he says, standing up with a flourish and striding halfway across the living room while the others are still turning their heads. Hurrying into the hall, he turns automatically to glance into the ornate mirror by the door and runs a hand through his hair to flatten it, when he stops. It occurs to him all of a sudden who might be on the other side of that door and before he can think about it, he ruffles his hair and turns to open the lock.

“Hey,” says Kang Chaeyoung, a handbag hanging from one forearm and a wine bottle in the other hand. On her head is a beret, a navy blue one that matches perfectly with the blouse under her white jacket. She frowns and cocks her head to the side, apparently at the low voices from inside. “Sorry… am I late?”

“No, not at all,” he replies, stepping aside to let her in. A faint scent of perfume wafts up as she enters, unzipping her boots in the corner. 

“Oh, uh - this is for you.” She hands him the bottle. “It’s a Chardonnay,” she explains, “but a nice, fruity one.”

Hoseok waits for her to continue but when she doesn’t, he nods once. “Wow. Um, you - you didn’t have to bring this,” he says, recalling how Jimin and Jungkook had strolled in, comfortably empty-handed, and Chanyeol had been punching him in the shoulder when he’d arrived.

Chaeyoung frowns. “Isn’t that what people do? Bring wine when they go to someone else’s house?”

Yeah, adults do. But he doesn’t say it, still reeling from the fact that every interaction he’s now had with her in Seoul has been in the midst of alcohol. He can’t help but wonder if she’s too young to be frequenting this much booze, but Chaeyoung snaps him out of that train of thought.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Hoseok looks up at her, now with her hands folded across her chest. He shakes his head immediately. “No, of course you didn’t. This was very nice of you,” he says sincerely, holding up the bottle. “Thanks.”

She returns his smile tentatively and follows him as they head inside. In the living room, the scene seems to be just as bleak as it had been two minutes ago, until Chanyeol and Jungkook spot the new guest. 

“Everyone, this is -”

“Hi, I’m Chaeyoung,” she says brightly, making Hoseok’s attempt at an introduction moot. Jungkook, who’s already stood up, bows and stutters his name as well. Behind him, Jimin stands up and flashes her a sparkling smile. 

“Hi, I’m Jimin. Hyung, you didn’t say someone else would be joining us as well,” he says, turning to Hoseok.

He narrows his eyes. “Didn’t I? My mistake,” he says, shrugging, for the truth is that he had no way of knowing if Chaeyoung would actually turn up. “Chae - I mean, Chaeyoung is Chan’s sister.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s head whips between both siblings as Chaeyoung takes a seat on the armchair next to him. “How much - I mean, what’s your age gap?”

“Four years,” supplies Chanyeol. “It’s started to seem like less, though, lately. No?”

She chuckles, taking off her jacket. “Only to you, oppa.”

“You two actually look quite similar,” remarks Jimin. “Except you’re…” He trails off as he looks at Chaeyoung and scrunches his face, clearly embarrassed. “You have longer hair,” he finishes.

“I’m going to keep this inside,” pipes up Hoseok then, holding up the wine. “Anyone want anything? Chae?”

Chaeyoung considers this, therefore missing the interested looks that Jimin and Jungkook give Hoseok. “I’ll have wine,” she decides. Jungkook asks if he can have another beer, and Hoseok silently nods and heads into the kitchen.

As he begins gathering the drinks, uncorking the wine and bustling around with the cans of beer in the fridge, he hears a burst of laughter from the living room that makes him freeze. He frowns, terribly confused, for until five minutes ago it looked like it would take something groundbreaking to liven the evening.

Hoseok tiptoes across the kitchen and slowly peers into the living room, afraid to breathe lest he ruin the mood. It occurs to him that he might be being rather dramatic, but it’s only because out of all the things that could have livened up the evening, Chaeyoung hadn’t been his bet.

“Here’s your drink.” He hands it to her a minute later, feeling his face flush unexpectedly when she smiles and takes the glass from him.

“So all three of you were friends when you were younger?” Jimin asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs.

“These two were,” answers Chaeyoung, pointing at Chanyeol and Hoseok.

“So were you,” says her brother, being, in Hoseok’s opinion, quite generous.

She gives him a look. “Was I? Really think about it, oppa.”

Chanyeol simply smiles bashfully while Jungkook nods beside her. “My brother never used to let me hang out with his friends either,” he says knowingly. 

“We let you hang out with us,” disagrees Hoseok, somewhat uncertain. “I mean, not all the time,” he allows, “but once in a while. Right?”

Chaeyoung shrugs easily. “Eh, it’s not important,” she says dismissively, waving a hand. “We got a life eventually,” she chuckles, glancing at Jungkook who grins.

“Should we pick the movie?” Hoseok asks abruptly, clapping his hands and grabbing the remote from the coffee table. He opens Netflix and hands the remote to Chanyeol, who begins flipping through the menu.

“We’re watching horror, yes?” He asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Ah, I love horror,” agrees Jungkook, snorting at Jimin’s doubtful expression.

“I don’t mind horror,” says Chaeyoung, positioning herself comfortably and facing the television. She leans over to pick up a handful of chips from the bowl on the coffee table as she looks at the screen. “Oh, not Train To Busan, though. Seen it too many times.”

“Yeah, no, we’ll look for something else…”

“We can watch Godzilla,” suggests Jimin hopefully.

“It’s supposed to be scary, hyung…”

“It is scary! Jin hyung got scared watching it, too.”

“Everything scares Jin hyung,” says Jungkook dismissively. “Oh, we can watch Get Out! I haven’t seen it since it came out.”

“Me neither,” says Chaeyoung, nodding. “A classic. Has everyone here seen it, though?”

“Yup,” says Chanyeol.

“I haven’t,” mutters Jimin. He turns to Hoseok beside him on the couch. “You haven’t seen it either, have you?”

“Er… no.” Hoseok frowns, scrolling through his phone. Nothing about a horror movie sounds like fun to him, but he’s ready to give it a shot if everyone else wants to. “It’s just… are we sure we want to watch it? I mean, Chaeyoung,” he says, watching her as she turns to look at him curiously. “Don’t you… not like horror movies? I was just reading about it and -”

“You what?” Her jaws drops open and she huffs. “You read about it? Oppa, you just ruined it for yourself!”

“No! I didn’t - I didn’t read the movie. I just read, like, the synopsis,” he explains hurriedly, ignoring how she rolls her eyes. “And it seems really scary.”

“Oh, don’t worry, hyung,” chimes Jungkook, shaking his head reassuringly. “It’s not any blood and gore or anything. It’s just… you know. Slow and…” He frowns deeply, trying to think of the right words to express the exact type of horror in this film.

“Slow, unsettling and debilitating fear throughout,” supplies Chaeyoung, her amusement clear.

Hoseok nods, not trusting himself to speak. “Oh. That’s - that’s… just fantastic. But, um… I thought you didn’t like horror movies.”

She frowns. “Why would you think that?”

“Because the last time we all watched a scary movie together, you ran out of the theater crying and locked yourself in the women’s bathroom,” he points out. “You didn’t come out until your dad threatened to take away your toy jewellery box.”

Chaeyoung gasps, her eyes unfocused as she apparently tries to remember. “Wait, you mean when we watched The Host? Oppa, I was nine.”

“Yes, and that kind of experience can traumatise a child,” he says wisely.

“Maybe, but I’m not one of them.” She gives him a look. “Are you sure you want to watch this movie?”

The answer is a resounding no, and it’s a testament to how much he hates horror movies that even a girl who’s only ever been in the peripheries of his life, knows this. 

Still, his response is to give her a look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because even though I cried and ran away and what have you,” she begins, resting her elbow on the arm of her chair to lean towards him, “I also remember you jumping so hard you spilled your popcorn all over the ground.”

Hoseok feels himself flush again as Jimin lets out a tinkling laugh. “That’s pretty on-brand for Hoseok hyung.”

“Really?”

“I just meant -”

“Dude, we watched that Japanese horror movie and made it,” points out Chanyeol. “Get Out really isn’t that bad.”

“Exactly; even Jimin hyung won’t get that scared in this one -”

“I’m not the one who -”

“Okay, fine,” interrupts Hoseok loudly. “I wasn’t actually complaining about the movie. I was just… being mindful pf my guests.” He gives Chaeyoung a sideways glance.

She raises her eyebrows. “Who, me? I’m good.”

“Fine.”

“Yep.”

There’s a pause before Chanyeol speaks. “So are we watching the movie or what?”

“I’m good with whatever the host wants.”

“And I’m good with whatever my guests want.”

“How does that answer my question?”

“Just press play,” Hoseok sits back on the sofa and hopes he isn’t coming off as too disgruntled. Next to him, Chanyeol chuckles and obliges, looking terribly amused. “Shut up,” he mutters, leading his friend to let out a laugh that he immediately disguises as a cough.

The movie begins and the group descends into a state of cautious concentration. Despite the lights not being dimmed out, Hoseok can start to feel the stress of having to make it through a scary movie. He really doesn’t like them; he hoped his point of contention had been hint enough to Chaeyoung, but apparently he wasn’t clear enough - or, true to form, she did what she wanted to get what she wanted, and everyone else followed suit.

When the first jump scare occurs, he squeezes his eyes shut, wishing more than anything that Seokjin were here…

Think about something else, anything else. He tries to recall dance practice this morning. Everyone had picked up the steps by now and their choreography was finally coming together. Namjoon still needed to work on the counts in the first chorus, though, and Taehyung was missing the same beat in the bridge every time. Jungkook was excellent as usual, but even he needed to regulate his energy to save it for the dance break… 

A sound pulls him out of this focused train of thought. It’s persistent, and sounds a lot like whispering. Turning slightly, he glances past Jimin to see Jungkook on the other corner of the sofa, his head tilted towards Chaeyoung’s as they point at the screen and murmur. Hoseok can’t make out what they’re saying, but spots Jungkook smiling slightly and nodding.

It gives Hoseok a bad feeling. The two of them whispering to each other about the movie only reminds him that he hasn’t seen it, meaning he has no idea how much more terrifying it’s going to get. Besides, now that he’s noticed the whispering, all he can hear is the whispering. It’s vaguely distracting, and he wonders why Chanyeol isn’t telling her to cut it out.

It doesn’t seem as though he’s noticed, though. Neither, for that matter, has Jimin.

“Hyung?”

Hoseok jumps a little. “What?” he mutters, turning to Jimin and trying to ignore how his heart feels like it’s about to detach from his chest. 

“Can I get another drink?”

“You know where the beer is,” whispers Hoseok. “Help yourself.”

“Okay. You want anything?” 

“Get me a seltzer.”

Jimin nods, then turns to Jungkook on his other side. “Oi. Do you want another drink?”

Jungkook seems to consider it, then nods. “Another beer? Thanks, hyung. Oh, wait!” He leans over conspiratorially to Chaeyoung. “Do you want another drink?”

From her spot on the armchair, she nods immediately. “I can have another glass.” She picks up a piece of popcorn and throws it at her brother, seated across the room in the other armchair. “Oppa,” she whispers loudly, “you want a drink?”

“Beer,” he answers instantly, before tapping Hoseok’s shoulder. “Oi, Hoseok. Do you want -”

“Good Lord,” groans Hoseok, rolling his eyes. “You know what? Why don’t we have an intermission? We can all refresh our drinks, too.”

“Good idea,” says Chanyeol to his immense relief, pausing the movie. “Washroom is…”

“Inside, to the left.”

As his friend disappears inside, the whispering transforms into full blown chatter, this time about the movie.

“I don’t trust the dad,” says Jimin instantly, looking rather troubled.

“Just the dad?” Chaeyoung asks, tilting her head.

Jimin gives her mock-annoyed look, making her laugh, while Jungkook shrugs. “I love movies where you can’t trust anyone.” He turns to Hoseok. “Hyung, are you liking the movie?”

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t seen it before,” remembers Chaeyoung. “So who’s creeping you out more? The dad or the mom? Or the gardener?”

Hoseok resists the urge to say everyone when it occurs to him that he has no idea what’s transpired in the last twenty minutes of the movie entirely. But before three expectant faces, he bites his lip. “The, uh… the maid. Definitely.”

“Oh, good one. Yeah, she’s suspicious as hell…”

“Who, the mom?” Chanyeol asks as he returns and takes his original seat, a brand new beer can in his hands already. “She’s the best.”

“The best?” Jimin asks, a little incredulous.

“You know what I mean. She’s the most exciting one.”

“But, hyung, she’s also the most dangerous…”

Chaeyoung stands up and goes to the kitchen with her empty glass as the conversation continues. Hoseok listens quietly, feeling lighter than before at the sight of his friends conversing more freely with each other. Even Jungkook seems to be coming out of his shell, a reasonably unusual occurrence when he meets new people.

Which reminds him.

Hoseok excuses himself and heads to the kitchen as well, where he sees Chaeyoung peering at his bottles of soju, her refilled wine glass balancing between her fingers. She turns when he enters, giving him a brief smile before going back to examining the label she was reading.

“Hey - so, I just wanted to check in,” he says after a moment, leaning awkwardly against the doorframe. For some reason, he’s suddenly very aware of how lanky he is, feeling as though he’s all joints and bones. “Hope, uh, hope my friends are being nice to you?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re great,” she replies easily, turning momentarily again and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Right, right. And… you’re not uncomfortable or anything?”

“Um, no. Not at all.” She frowns. “Why?”

“No, just -” He shakes his head and winces. “You’re the only girl here and… I dunno. You sure they aren’t being, like… fresh with you?”

Chaeyoung turns and stares. “Not really, dad.”

Hoseok ignores this. “Okay. I only ask because I saw you and Jungkook talking through most of the movie. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t being weird.”

Her forehead clears somewhat. “Oh, no. He was just being nice. He’s quite sweet, really.”

“He’s - okay. Thought I sensed, like. A vibe.”

“Don’t worry about it. Jimin’s more my type, anyway,” she adds casually after a moment, her gaze still on the soju.

“Huh. What?” 

Chaeyoung turns around and blinks. “What?”

“He’s your type?” The words are out of Hoseok’s mouth before he can stop them. “What, uh, what do you mean by that?”

She frowns. “Um… nothing, really. He just seems more outgoing, that’s all.”

“Okay. Because when people say someone’s their type, they usually mean it in the context of…” But the word doesn’t come to him. “Well, in a different context.”

“Well, I meant it in the context that in terms of personality, I tend to get along with Jimins more than Jungkooks.” She looks confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” A moment passes. “It just looked like you were getting along well with Jungkook, too.”

“I was…” If it’s possible, Chaeyoung looks even more confused than Hoseok feels. “Seriously, what - what did I do?” She asks this, not defensively, but with a bit of a sigh, as though this was to be expected.

“Nothing. Really.” He shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m just… I don’t host very often,” he explains lamely. “But I’m glad you’re getting along with them, I guess.”

She watches him for a moment before replying, as though waiting to see if he’ll say anything else. “Okay, then. They’re being very nice. So… you can chill.”

“I - hey. I’m chill. Alright?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m chill. Cool. Whatever. I’m totally - I’m frigid.”

Chaeyoung stares at him, lips pursed, while Hoseok finds himself wishing he was still watching that terrifying horror movie over having this conversation. Before either of them can say anything, though, Chanyeol enters the kitchen. 

“Hey, I was looking for a bottle opener…?” He looks up to see both occupants of the kitchen, as though just realising who they are. “What’s up?”

Hoseok takes a beat as Chaeyoung simply shakes her head and turns back to the soju. He shrugs. “Nothing. Just catching up.”

Chanyeol raises his eyebrows. “You two?” he asks incredulously, being far too obvious in Hoseok’s opinion. 

He deliberately doesn’t look in his sister’s direction as he responds. “Yeah. I was making sure she found a drink and… and she was telling me how she’d like to date Jimin.”

Chaeyoung’s head whips around. “What?” Her eyes dart to Chanyeol. “I wasn’t -” She breaks off and exhales through her nose, glaring at Hoseok. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Me? You’re the one who said he was your type,” he counters. “I didn’t even ask; you volunteered that information all by yourself.”

“Yes, and by saying he’s my type, I’m virtually humping him,” she snaps, making both men groan instantly.

“Don’t say hump!”

“Jeez, Chae, what is the matter with you?”

She glares at them, jaw dropping. “Okay, you’re both really weird right now. And you -” She rounds on Hoseok. “You are raining on my parade.”

“What parade is that exactly?”

“My - like, my social life. I was just being nice to your friends -”

“Okay, you know what? As your - your older brother’s friend, I’m going to give you some advice about -”

“I don’t need your advice! And - don’t you point your beer at me!”

“I’ll point -”

“Okay, whoa! Time out!” Chanyeol exclaims, taking a step forward and holding up his hands. “Come on, guys.”

Both Hoseok and Chaeyoung fall silent. While she simply folds her arms across her chest and conspicuously shifts her gaze to Chanyeol, Hoseok glares at her for a moment before rolling his eyes and glancing at his best friend.

Chanyeol waits for a moment. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Now which one’s Jimin again?”

Chaeyoung huffs. “Alright, I’m going to go back to the living room before I scream,” she says in a low voice, manoeuvring around both men and stalking out of the kitchen.

Hoseok sighs and shakes his head. “God, I forgot how much of a nightmare this can be,” he mutters, as they follow her at a slower pace.

“Yeah, don’t you just love it when ten years pass and nothing changes?” Chanyeol responds sarcastically, falling into his arm chair as the movie resumes. For the rest of the movie, no one says a word. Hoseok can’t be sure, but he thinks Jimin and Jungkook may have caught on to at least something, but he can’t worry about that now.

Part of him knows he needs to clear the air with Chaeyoung, if for no other reason than the fact that he doesn’t want to continue behaving like a sniping teenager. It’s not her fault that she finds a way each time to wheedle her way into his life, be it on the school bus with his classmates or in his apartment with his group members. He, Hoseok, had invited her here and if Chaeyoung can’t help but be so… so Chaeyoung, he at least can rise to the occasion and be a little more patient. 

“Whoa,” says Jimin in wonder as the credits begin rolling. “I did not see that coming. What a movie.”

“You didn’t get as scared as I expected you to,” remarks Jungkook thoughtfully. “Neither did Hoseok hyung, actually,” he adds, sounding almost disappointed.

Hoseok hyung didn’t, it’s true, but it’s only because he spent the last hour of the movie thinking of the various ways in which he can clear the air with a certain acquaintance from his past. “Show me something scarier next time, kid,” he suggests instead.

To his horror, Jungkook grins, while Chanyeol chuckles. “That is not a challenge he needed, mate. Anyway, I think I should head.”

“Already?” Jungkook checks his phone for the time. “It’s barely nine.”

“I have an early flight tomorrow,” he replies apologetically, standing up and stretching. “But text me the link to that YouTube video when you find it.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Cool. Chae, come on, I’ll drop you on the way.”

As Jimin and Jungkook begin debating whether they should head back, Hoseok notices Chaeyoung nodding and putting on her jacket, eyes on the floor. There’s a bit of bustling as everyone gets ready to leave and moves collectively towards the hall to put on their shoes. Chanyeol gets a call and steps into the corridor to take it, and Hoseok takes the opportunity to get his sister alone for a moment.

“Hey.”

Startled, Chaeyoung gasps a little when she hears his voice. “Uh - hey.”

“Listen, I…” This is harder than he anticipated. “Sorry about… before.”

She nods slowly, pausing before speaking. “Did I do something wrong, though?”

“No,” he says immediately. “I just got a little…” Again, he can’t think of the word. He tries it differently. “You’re the kid I grew up with. I didn’t realise it, but I guess I still see you as the eleven year old who insisted she was old enough to go-kart with us. I mean,” he adds with a little chuckle, “don’t you kind of still see me as the fifteen year old kid who used to hang out with your brother?”

She seems to consider it before shaking her head. “Not really.”

It’s not the answer he was expecting, but he nods. “Fair enough. That’s on me, I guess.”

“You know,” she says after a moment, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket, “I hope you don’t feel an obligation to keep in touch just because we ran into each other accidentally. I mean, Seoul is a big city. I can understand if you don’t want…” She trails off, and he senses the air shift slightly.

He frowns, not understanding it. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you to come.”

She narrows her eyes at him, but more knowingly than snidely. “You invited me because I’m Chan’s sister.”

A part of Hoseok, an old, fading part fueled by only memories and habit and nothing else, is glad she knows this. It feels shameful to admit it, though, and he wonders for a moment if she’s waiting for him to confirm it. Before he can respond, however, Jimin and Jungkook arrive behind him and step in between them to head out.

“We have to go, hyung,” says Jimin while Jungkook waves to Chaeyoung. “Yoongi hyung asked us to pick up coffee on the way and the place will close soon.”

“Yeah, and there’s some international package with the guards at the dorm,” adds Jungkook, shrugging. “There’s no one at home so we need to sign for it.”

“We’ll be on time for practice tomorrow, though!”

Hoseok waves them away as they hop into the elevator. At the other end of the corridor, Chanyeol looks like he’s wrapping up his call. Chaeyoung seems to notice this, too, and turns to leave when Hoseok stops her.

“Chae, look,” he begins nervously. “Whatever may have been my reason to invite you… I’m glad you came,” he says honestly. “It was good to see you again.”

She looks for a moment as though she doesn’t believe him. But then her mouth curves into a small, playful smile. “Even though I still think Jimin is my type?”

Hoseok nods, the smile frozen on his face. “Yeah, this was a nice moment. Let’s not ruin it.”

Chaeyoung’s shoulders deflate slightly but she still looks more upbeat than before. “Alright,” she says, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, oppa.”

“Goodnight, Chaeyoung.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[sitp-recs]

hey Liv, I'm back on tumblr after a few months of being inactive and your last rec post was the first thing I saw which made me want to read drarry again lol can you recommend one with step dad harry who doesn't have kids of his own? those always hit the spot when I feel like reading something tender. Thank you in advance!

Hello anon, glad to have you back! I hope you’ve enjoyed your break. I’m not particularly familiar with that trope as I rarely read kid fics but I’ve listed below my favorite step dad!Harry stories which are very tender indeed! And I trust my followers to share more recs 😊

Far Side by @tackytigerfic (M, 800 words)

Harry has a photograph of Draco and Scorpius on his desk at work. He says it's his favourite.

Relic Radiation by tackytiger (M, 900 words)

Draco goes into space, leaving behind his son Scorpius (who has just started at Hogwarts, at least), and his not-quite-boyfriend Harry Potter. But Harry can't stop loving Draco just because he's approximately 408km up, in constant orbit.

Blue Sky Is Living Here Today by ignatiustrout (G, 5k)

Draco's a father, Harry's in love with him, and it's really hard to take things slow.

Little Talks by Femme and noeon (E, 11k)

Draco's been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he's sure it's just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.

Take the Moon by tackytiger (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one.