#There's a used bookstore about 30 minutes away and they get new used books but its nothing NEW and their horror selection is small

[imagineanime2022]

Prove It *Part 2*

Hatori Sohma X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1585

Requested: @girlsforpjm @navyhua

Request: And yes pls part two🥹🙏 AND Omg part two soon plzzz

*Part 1*

The first thing that he did was bring you lunch at work, he knew that you couldn’t leave your office but he could. There was a soft knock on your office door, you glanced up expecting a student but instead were faced with Hatori “what are you doing here?” You asked. “I brought you lunch.” He answered, holding up a bento box, you smiled. “How did you know that I would be here?” You asked. “I happen to know some of your students.” He answered honestly as we walked in, placing it next to you. “We used to do this all the time back in school.” You smiled as you opened the bento box noting that it was exactly the same the ones that you used to make “This is the same as the ones that I used to make you.” “You mean the one that you made for yourself and then gave to me because you knew that I wasn’t going to go and eat?” He asked. “You figured it out?” You asked. “It did take me a little while. You were good at acting back then, but Shigure told me that you always got him to grab you something that you could eat later.” Hatori answered. “So I owe you a lifetime of lunches.” “Did you make this?” You asked. “Yes.” He answered. “You’ve gotten good at cooking.” You hummed as you continued to eat. “How do you know that I wasn’t good at cooking before?” He asked. “I guess I don’t, were you?” You asked, he gave a soft chuckle. “I’ve gotten better then I was.” He answered.

The second thing was a book that you had been talking about, he remembered you mentioning it when you were on a coffee date, you had been reading the series and were excited to get the new book. Hatori was sitting on your sofa, he could hear you humming in the kitchen as you got the drinks that you both wanted. “I don’t know what you want to do tonight, I don’t think there’s anything on tonight.” You said as you walked back in putting the drinks you made on the coffee table and ticking your legs under you. “Actually I bought you something, I thought you might want to have a look at it since I have some work that I need to finish.” He explained. “If you had work to do why didn’t you say so, I don’t want to distract you.” You leaned towards him. “No I wanted to be with you, like we used to, you know we didn’t have to talk but we were together.” He explained and you nodded your eyes glass over in nostalgia as you thought of all the times that you sat with him in the student council room while he was working. “Here.” He said drawing your attention back to him as you held out the book that he had bought for you. “You found it!?” You asked excitedly as you looked it over flicking through the pages. “I was on my way over and I saw it on display in the bookstore in town, I worried that you might have bought it already but I’m glad that I got it.” He smiled. “So what do you think, you get started on that and I’ll get to work and then once we’re done we can reconvene?” “That sounds good.” You nodded, getting comfortable on the sofa, opening the book and getting lost in your story. Hatori glanced over about 30 minutes later stuck on your face, you were so enraptured in your book, your eyes moving rhythmically over the page, the occasional sound in response to something that you read. This was the moment that Hatori wondered how he had ever pushed you away, how he thought that would be easier not to have you. Honestly he was just thankful that you were giving him the second chance.

The third thing was not something that he brought you but rather something that he did for you, you had been at work when the accident happened, some of the kids had gotten into a fight in the hall, you had attempted to break it up but given the fact that they were two third year students it was a little more difficult then you first thought, you had ended up shoved into the wall where you had hit your head “Hey idiots! Would you cut it out!” Kyo yelled as he just straight up knocked out the two idiots in the fight, Tohru rushed over to you. “Miss (Y/N) are you okay?” She asked. “Yeah I’m fi-” “Your head is bleeding.” Yuki pointing to the cut that you were holding your hand in front of. “Oh I’ll go to the nurse and get it sor-” “We all know he’ll be mad if we don’t tell him, he’ll probably want to treat it himself, not to mention the nurse is probably going to tell you to see a doctor anyway.” Yuki explained and you looked at him and nodded. “Fine but tell him not to rush.” You said as Tohru helped you back to your office.

Not rushing seemed to straight out of the window, you don’t know where he was but you were sure that he wasn’t close, he had no reason to be close enough to the school that the trip took him 10 minutes. “I don’t know why you rushed over here, I said that it wasn’t an emergency.” You grumbled realising that he was ignoring you. “Did you lose consciousness?” He asked. “No.” You answered. “Any blurred, double or loss of vision?” He asked. “No.” You answered. “Headache?” He asked, you raised an eyebrow as you pointed to the cut on my head. “Apart from that?” “No.” You answered, crouched in front of you looking at your eyes for a second before pulling out the small light to check your pupils. “So what’s the verdict?” “I would like for you to take the rest of the day off but I don’t think you are going to do that.” He mumbled as he started cleaning the cut on your head. “Can’t.” You answered. “Then I’ll need you to make sure you send me a text every couple of hours to make sure that you're still okay.” He said. “Alright but what if I forget?” You asked. “Then I’ll be coming to take you home because you have a concussion.” He answered matter of factly before leaning up and pressing a kiss to your forehead. There was a knock at the door “remember to text me.” He said softly before disappearing out the door before you called the person in.

The Fourth and final thing was something that you gave him. You were making dinner moving around the kitchen in a practised motion as you grabbed everything that we needed. Hatori was standing behind you, you had both settled into a comfortable routine of staying at your place, eating together and hanging out. “I wanted to ask you something.” You said not actually turning to look at him. “Yeah?” He asked from his place leant against the counter watching you, he could see that you were nervous about it. “We’ve been doing this for a little while and this started because you wanted to prove that you were sorry.” You explained. “I thought I was doing this to prove that I love you the same way that you told me you love me.” He answered. “Well that’s where this is going I think that you’ve proved it and if you wanted we could maybe make this official.” You suggested playing with your fingers before going back to cutting at the food once the sentence left your mouth. Hatori was gentle as he pushed himself forward and put his hands on your hips turning you to look at him and prompting you to put down the knife. “Are you sure?” He asked. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure.” You frowned. “Mm.” He hummed, he didn’t even process that he was slowly moving closer to you not until his nose touched the top of your head before pressing a kiss to your head, before he could pull you back you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned up. “I’m really sure.” You said softly. “Really?” He asked moving slightly closer lips almost touching, his soft hurried breaths gently fluttering across your face. “Really sure.” You confirmed pressing your lips together, his hands moved for his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you closer, every part of his body pressing against you, warm, firm protective as he seemed to shield you from anything that could ever hurt you. The kiss itself was soft, he was testing water, not pushing too far but pushing enough to make sure that felt that he proved that he wanted it. His hands moved up to your face and changed the angle slightly, to press firmer, teeth gently biting at your lip as he pulled away. Both of you fought to catch your breath as he leaned down lips level with your ear. “I’m not convinced, are you sure?” He asked. “Behave.” You scolded him and he chuckled, pressing one last long kiss to your lips, hands gently squeezing your hips where they had fallen again. “I’ll leave you alone to finish dinner.” He stepped away from you. “And then?” You asked. “No promises.” He shrugged.

Request Here!!

[blusandbirds]

zanna made me watch national treasure and all i got was riley poole as my new blorbo

@zannolin, a riley ficlet, this is ur doing

-

it’s like a math problem. if riley poole has an event that starts at 3:00 PM EST and ends at 4:00 PM EST, and riley poole has two friends who are either “working, i’m so sorry, but have fun, okay?” or just “busy,” then how many people are expected to arrive at riley’s event by 3:30 PM EST? the answer, of course, is none. just riley himself. just him, hidden away at the back of the bookstore, tucked between the cookbook and magazine sections.

the only people he’s seen today were one harried mom in yoga pants looking for better homes and gardens and the store owner themself who came to inform riley that the bathroom on-site was out of order and if he needed to use it any time, he should go to the café across the street. it’s probably the best crowd riley’s drawn yet.

ben and abigail think it’s an ego thing. they’re not completely wrong, because he does like it. his name on the covers, the enthusiastic 3.35 by 4 inch newspaper reviews, the flourish of his signature across the front page. but most of all, it’s because he isn’t like them. he can’t do the genius never to be understood thing. he wants— he needs to be seen. riley poole, in ink, proof that he was here at all.

so riley, sitting in the back of a bookstore even quieter than the museums and mausoleums he’s adventured to, takes an extended course in perseverance.

no matter how many of these he’s had to suffer through—the “are you ben gates?” questions and the driving back home with his own cardboard smile in the backseat—he’s not ready to quit. he’s not willing to be the guy who helped find two lost caches of priceless treasure, but then gave up because nobody came to his book signing. he’s not the last kid alone on the playground anymore. he’s got a cool car and recognition from the white house and two friends who he loves almost as much as they love each other.

give it ten more minutes, he decides. ten more minutes and then he calls it a day. ten more minutes and then he goes home to chalk up another failure on the riley poole is a big loser board.

three of his allotted ten minutes pass by, the hands on his stupid fake rolex limping forward like he’s listening to one of ben’s colonial architecture tangents. he blows invisible dust from a cover. he taps his fingers across the table surface. he sits. 

he thinks about doing this for seven more minutes. he thinks about doing this for twenty more events. he thinks about doing this for the rest of his life. the future stretches out before him, an endless aisle of waiting at empty tables for people who never planned on coming.

oh, who is he kidding?

riley kicks his foot under the table, shoving out the empty cardboard boxes so he can sweep the unopened, unsold books back into storage. it’s gonna be a pain getting it all back into the ferrari, like the world’s saddest game of tetris, and even afterwards he’ll have to reconfigure all the boxes to fit into his living room. his living room, which has become somewhat of a monument to his oh-so-successful writing career. stacks and stacks of cardboard boxes, taking over the space, bursting to overflowing. well, it’s not like he has guests over anyways.

empty tables. full boxes. riley poole’s life.

somewhere in front, footsteps pad down the carpeted floor. he doesn’t look up. it’s not for him.

the steps come to a halt oddly close to the table. someone clears their throat.

a familiar voice, “am i in the right place?”

riley’s head jerks up, nearly clipping the edge of the table. from behind a pile of books appears the face of the fbi’s very own special agent sadusky.

“agent sadusky?” riley shakes his head. “sorry, the self-help section is over there.” he points aimlessly. it’s only then that he notices the item in sadusky’s hand. instantly recognizable, given the dozens he has spread around him right now. a copy of riley’s book, coffee cup ring on the cover and the jacket dented. sadusky grins when riley meets his eyes.

“sorry i was late.” the agent shrugs. “we got a tip about somebody trying to steal the constitution.”

it’s 3:41. something lifts in riley’s chest. he settles into his chair and matches sadusky’s smile. “guess originality really is dead,” he says.

[ruththe-reckless]

hii ✨️ 1 9 20 28 30 ✨️

19:A song that makes you think about life

Okay i don't listen to this as much as i probably should, but i really really REALLY like Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie. It's like, yes......... everyone has their own shit and it feels like we're slowly being crushed but at least you're here with me :>........ hrgrhrh............

20:A song that has many meanings to you

(Another person sent me this too but tumblr wouldn't let me edit then THEN deleted it for me so thanks tumblr gfy but anyways im gonna use a different song than the one i planned)

Okay i feel like I'm cheating but 5&1/2 Minute Hallway by Poe means so so much to me. The song is meant to be paired with the book House of Leaves (spoilers but the song plays inside the book, adding to that mindfucky unreality that reassemblez Goncharov).

Like, holy shit. What can i say bout the five and a half minute hallway that hasn't been said already. The House represents the mental state of a person, and a person could lose themselves (physically or mentally) if traversing inside it too long. This manifests through impossible architecture (THE HOUSE IS QUARTER OF AN INCH LARGER ON THE INSIDE THAN ON THE OUTSIDE WHAT THE FUCKKKKK) like the impossibly long hallway in a supposedly regular surburban house

So yeah the song is about the House and a person going through it. And maybe about someone who tries to reach them?

"But there's only so far i can go, when you're living in a hallway that keeps growing. I think to myself, five more minutes and I'll be there"

BUT YOU SEE. AT THE SECOND CHORUS IT CHANGES FROM FIVE MINUTES TO 30 SECONDS. SYMBOLISING THE SINGER IS GETTING CLOSER-

Like. Okay yeah you might be consumed by your own sanity and slowly spiralling, but Someone Who Cares might reach you.......oughhh......................

At the end of the day, the story is very up to interpretations (usually horror. Which yeah fair) , but i am always filled with a sense of warmth when it is interpreted as a love story.

28:A song by an artist with a voice that you love

WOO OKAY SHE'S A NEW ONE BUUUT Trial By Song sang by Jessica Law for sure!!!! Her voicing Orpheus (in Ulysses Dies At Dawn of The Mechanisms) is such a good match oml i had shivers everytime Orpheus' sweet but sorrowful voice graces my ears JONNY HOW COULD YOU KILL HIM BY A BULLET THROUGH THE THROAT YOU MONSTER AHHHHHH

(Unrelated but Jessica Law made me Hyperfixate on a clown ringmaster mannequin that skins people to wear so yeah. She has Power)

30:A song that reminds you of yourself

Ooh. That will def be Sarah Come Home by Allie X. It has this really sweet (and a tinge of sad?) vibe to it that definitely reminds me of my younger self. Specifically the lyrics:

"Follow the train tracks, into the next town. Look for a bookstore, somewhere to sit down. I know you have places, you run away to. Leave little traces, so i can find you."

Bonus the song could be interpreted by wingtips singing it so yeah

[priestessri]

Chance meeting

Brad Pitt/reader (friendship)

I was sitting alone at my favourite table of my favourite coffee shop. As I contemplate how I'll be presenting myself in front of the director and writers of the next upcoming hit movie. Today was packed, which made sense considering the warmer weather. I shadow reflected off the window I was by indicating there was someone standing beside me. I decided to ignore them and hope they get the message and leave. My attention was caught when they cleared their throat, as I was about to make the excuse that I was waiting for a friend. I realised that this wasn't just any random person. This was Brad Pitt, as in Bullet Train Brad Pitt.

I was slightly shocked to see him here, as last I jeard he was in France, filming a new movie. My entire being was giddy with excitement as this was the first time I was seeing him in person. He politely asked if he could sit at the table with me as there were no other seats. I accepted as I fought back the urge to faint.

I decided I would read this book that I had recently bought at this cute vintage bookstore. When suddenly Brad started talking to me.

"You read," he asked, noticing the book in my hands. "I see you like Shakespeare. Is it any good?" He carries on.

"It's okay, I guess," I reply nonchalantly as I try to hide the fact that my entire body is shaking. "I use Shakespeare to help me prepare for reading lines at my auditions," I reply honestly. " You're an actress," Brad asks with interest and a slight smile. "Not yet, im still in the early stages. I'm not getting as many callbacks as I would like, " I respond, trying to calm down as my heart and mind start racing. "You're from England, aren't you?, i can hear a slight accent," he says, noticing the difference of my speech. "Hmmm, yeah, I am. Born and raised, " I respond, not giving much away.

*phone vibrates* I've just received a text from my agent, alerting me that my audition has changed times. Now I need to be there at 12 pm, which is in 30 minutes.

"Damn it," I accidently speak out loud. "Is there a problem?" Brad asks, showing concern. I decided to tell him the truth that I'm not going to make it to my audition in time. He nods, listening, standing abruptly. "Come on, I'll get you there in time," he says as he leads me to his car.

Brad got me there within 20 minutes. With only 10 minutes to spare. I thank him and turn to leave. "Wait, Brad calls after me," stopping me in my tracks. "I should have asked this earlier, but what's your name?" Brad asks. "It's Melanie," I respond shyly. "Cool name, here's my number. You can text or call me if you ever need help or advice with anything, " he says, passing a piece of paper over with a small smile.

"Remember Melanie, stay confident, show off your strongest skills, and most importantly Good Luck" Brad finishes off. Calming my raising anxiety almost completely.

The end

[andromedasummer]

is there seriously nowhere to buy textbooks in person anymore for vic uni?? wow that really is horrible. fuck all the "protestors" and their lingering sentiment. what's your opinion on vic uni as it stands now? i've heard from a lot of people that in recent years it has changed (in a negative way), and even tho the uni wasn't responsible for the protestors, i heard from some people that they weren't so keen on the uni in the aftermath. whether it was due to the proximity to parliament or i also heard the uni's response towards students was basically "tough luck" when their finances and studies were impacted due to the "protestors"

yeah we got emails and the response was straight up "nothing we can do, avoid coming in if you feel threatened" which was like. yeah?? we feel threatened? 12-18 yr old girls at the local high school had to add like 20/30 mins to their commute because if they went past the protests they would be harassed. my 19 yr old coworker was reduced to tears by a man screaming at her at the train station about her mask. she had to come into work using uber to avoid it happening again. she lived over an hour away, it was NOT cheap.

i walked past or through the protestors a lot because i had to go in that way to study, home was too busy and our internet was spotty. i had to get very used to ignoring the shouting. but the public were at boiling point by the end assaults/harassment of the general public had gone up, local businesses being invaded happened more and suddenly people were driving past the protestors throwing milkshakes or yelling at them, which only made them more aggressive.

as for whats up at vic im not sure im the best person to ask. i dont pay attention to too many of the changes and rarely participate in clubs (i did help with classical theater and uniq in my first 2 years)

what i can say is the million dollars spent on the new science centre was useless, as the reason the science department needed a new building was because their lecture halls and labs were too small. the buildings rooms are the exact same size as they were in the other building. so the science faculty are fucked if they want anything for the next decade because "oh well you just got a new building." i dont know why theyve bought that massive bloody abandoned building down the hill and dont see how paying for its destruction is going to help with costs, god knows what they plan on putting there. at least first years will stop breaking in and cutting themselves on broken glass and nails/falling through broken flooring.

i adore pretty much all but one or two lecturers ive had at vic, the good ones are exceptionally good and make attending class a joy. and because nz is so small they know everyone in their subject worth knowing and are happy to make connections with them possible which is a lifesaver. also as someone who restarted their degree cos health problems + changed subjects ive had a LOT of lecturers from psych to classics to media studies to polsci. my main problem is the problem is the treatment of lecturers.

a close friend of mine from high school works as a tutor there and as much as he adores it, every time hes ever gotten his paycheck its because his union pressed vic to send it on time. recently theres been protests by staff for better pay, which i fully support, i even attended some protests because quite frankly for the experience, knowledge and ties these people have they are paid a pittance.

as for the book stores, we have multiple bookstores here but most are secondhand. the ones that arent dont stock textbooks, because the dedicated textbook place for 50+ years has been vicbooks. i dont know who it will fall to. unitybooks maybe? or we'll just have to order online like i said before.

but with the protests, people likely got turned off heading to vic because, ultimately, parliaments down the hill from from it. literally you just gotta walk up the terrace, turn right and then walk another 5 minutes. takes 20 minutes if youre fit enough. getting into uni was near impossible for most people because you had to go through or past the protest camp to get there (unless you were lucky enough to live on the other side of the city and go up the terrace the other side). also, because the main city train station and main city bus station are/were on the other side of the camp, it made confrontation if you used those modes of transport unavoidable.

ultimately the protest is not vics fault, not by a mile. if i were to blame anyone it would be 1. the protestors themselves 2. the police, who, when i walked past on day one, had only sent a cop car and 3 cops to watch over the situation, which is how they managed to pitch all the tents/blockade the traffic/take as much ground as they did. police were woefully, woefully unprepared. 3rd blame goes to the tow companies who all refused to remove the vehicles blocking the street because they were sympathetic to the group that were spraying nazi symbols on the war monument and calling for execution of our politicians. fuck them.

honestly im just glad that its over, even a year on. my dad was coming home when the fighting broke out and he could see them throwing bricks and starting fires a street away and the riot police bearing down on them and using hose. it was incredibly unnerving to watch, esp as i had friends and family working in the buildings around there.

[mouldyrubbish]

31-1-23

today i got up and had breakfast with sophie and then i got dressed and walked to the library and picked up Taipei. I stopped by the bookstore and ended up getting really carried away in the second hand books section. I bought a book of faces in everyday objects, a book of essays about contemporary art schooling, Politzer’s Elementary Principals of Philosophy and a really rare first edition copy of Richard Rees’ Simone Weil biography (found an ebay listing of it for $115 and I got it for only $20). When I got back home Sophie and I were supposed to go take a trip out to the tip shop Heather works at but it was a 30 minute drive so we ended up just walking to the shopping centre and got some banh mi and bubble tea and sat and ate outside. Then we did a very very cheeky op shop stop and found some really cool things. Sophie found a brand new pair of cutoff pants from 2000s Target and I got a fun little red mini dress with blue and green and yellow flowers on it, a beautiful sheer button up sleeveless floral blouse (which fit me perfectly) and a sparkly grey tank top with this weird layered ‘feathering’ type material thing around the collar, and little diamantés in the shape of a rose and lace edging. We also found some other treasures (a sailor style dress, a gloomy bear purse) but sensibly put back that which we did not need... Then we went and tested some perfumes in Lush (I’m going back tomorrow to buy a bottle of the Turmeric Latte because it’s sold out online and they had 3 bottles left in stock there) and then went to Mecca where that girl hooked me up with the Diptyque for 40% off. Went grocery shopping. Walked back home and when we got back we sat outside in the courtyard with a few other people and burnt some patchouli incense and read in silence. It was reallyyyy nice. Then had some dinner and went for a walk to the park and sat by the waterway and watched the incredddibbleee sunset on my own... Read a bit more while I was there then walked home. Had a unit meeting with everyone and then we ended up all talking about all sorts of stuff, bonding, it was nice. Sophie wanted to watch Prisoner of Azkaban and so we put it on. I read a bit more during the first half but then I got too invested in the nostalgia of the film and just ended up watching it. Not enough Snape screen time I realise in these films... anyway its now 2:20 am and I’m just lying here... Reflecting on what a wonderful day I had. Feeling like I’ve been treated to a lot of pleasure lately. And I’m excited for the first time in a long time. Feeling really good.. My room could use a cleaning but otherwise, feeling good. 

[spideyhexx]

take a chance on me - b.b.

here's something I wrote for @buckyblues 4k writing challenge! I've been wanting to get back into writing, so here's my first go at it :)

using the song prompt "take a chance on me by abba." @edenslibrary

be sure to let me know what you think :) reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated 😊

bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky has a crush on you. he's doubtful of himself, messes up, but turns it around.

WARNINGS: sfw. fluffy. some tiny tiny angst. bucky being self deprecating. huge hate of chekhov. bookstore owner!reader.

word count: 2.3k

Bucky replays his conversation with you a billion times within the couple of minutes it takes for him to walk from the quaint little book shop to his apartment.

After his favorite bookstore closed, Bucky took to finding a new one and stumbled upon the Murky Lime. He thought the name was strange, a little off putting, but as soon as he walked in, Bucky knew he was going to enjoy spending his afternoons there. It always smelled like hazelnut or vanilla, a scent he found so incredibly comforting that he bought a hazelnut scented candle for his home. Although it was a small shop, the shelves were loaded with books and he was able to find a hidden corner to sit down and read for a couple of hours, unbothered.

Not to mention the pretty girl that worked at the main desk and seemed to be the owner. You were there every afternoon that Bucky stopped by. He noticed how you would paint your nails when there weren’t as many customers. How kind your words were to anyone who asked for help. It took him a couple of weeks to work up the courage to ask you to help him find a book, even though he knew exactly where it was.

Bucky remembers when he complimented your bracelet and you smiled, stuttering out a thank you. The first time he saw you nervous. It gave him hope that maybe you were into him, but Bucky pushed away those thoughts as quickly as they came.

He couldn’t fathom how someone would truly want to be with him. Besides, he had enough on his plate, what with helping Sam on whatever mission he called him on and dealing with the occasional nightmare that haunted his mind.

That’s why he keeps on replaying the conversation. And cursing at himself for being so stupid.

…

“Hey Bucky!” Your words were cheerful, causing heat to rise up on his cheeks. You loved how a simple greeting seemed to get him all flustered. He’s still not used to even hearing his name come from your lips.

“How’re you doing, doll?” He lets the endearment slip, hoping he’d get to see you smile, and you do, before turning away and pointing at a box.

“I’m alright! And if you don’t mind, and you can totally say no, but I got a whole new set of Chekhov plays and I need to bring them to the play section, which is the furthest point from here and the box is a bit too heavy and I was going to make multiple trips but now you’re here and-”

“Of course I’ll help,” Bucky responded, chuckling at your babbling. You sighed, secretly hating your rambling habit, but it was hard not to when a handsome man was standing in front of you.

“I thought you hated Chekhov?” Bucky asked, picking up the box and following you to the play section.

“Oh I do, but a customer has been calling in for the last three weeks, asking if we have Chekhov and I thought I should finally put my Chekhov hating ass aside to appease the people who adore him,” you told him.

You couldn’t remember when you told Bucky you hated Chekhov, but you did not necessarily need to say it for someone to understand your distaste for the author.

“Or they could’ve just gone to a different bookstore,” Bucky mumbled, but you heard and let out a laugh. He put the box down and leaned against the opposite book shelf, hoping you would continue talking to him as you put the books away.

“So, I had another question for you,” you said, sneaking one glance at him before looking away.

“Go for it.”

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime? Not sure where but we could just go get some coffee? Or go out to dinner?”

This was it, the penultimate moment Bucky had been dreaming about ever since he laid eyes on you. Yet his mouth began speaking before he could really take it in.

“Um, no,” he said, immediately widening his eyes at your expression. Your mouth dropped to say something, but you weren’t sure what to even say.

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think I can, right now, maybe?” You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled softly.

“It’s okay to say no, Bucky.”

“I know that, I know. I think I’m just not ready right now,” he said, his voice quieter as he said the last part. His brain was screaming at him to retract everything he had just said to you and to tell you he would go on a date, but Bucky could not do it. He already felt like he had failed and saw no point in trying.

“That’s okay. But...if you ever change your mind, let me know, I’d still be down,” you said.

You were slightly disappointed, but understood his reasoning even if he didn't give you an exact one.

Ever since he first came to your shop, you knew exactly who the tall, blue eyed man was. It was hard trying to comprehend everything James Bucky Barnes had gone through. You knew asking him out might’ve been a big step from having occasional small talk. A small part of you hoped he would take a chance on you someday.

...

Bucky throws his jacket haphazardly onto the couch as soon as he gets home, not caring that it ends up falling to the floor. He lights the candle on the kitchen counter and collapses onto the couch face first, letting out the sigh that was building up in him ever since he left the Murky Lime.

How could he do that? Was he actually not ready to date? He told himself he wasn’t, that’s why he felt like he had to say no to your date. But god, does Bucky want to go out with you and hold your hand and kiss your cheek. He hasn’t felt this feeling in a long while.

All the therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor flood his mind. The ones where she encouraged him to try dating and finding new friends but he brushed it off, feeling like he was unworthy of it. How could a sweet girl like you see something in him, he simply did not understand it. But you liked him enough to ask him on a date and he fucking said no.

Bucky sends Sam a quick text that’s more like an entire paragraph explaining the situation and what he should do. He throws his phone to the other side of the couch and drops his head into his hands. His phone pings a few seconds later and Bucky scrambles to grab it.

I think you’re just afraid of dating buck. You’re definitely ready, you’ve done so much work to be yourself again and I’ve seen that in you. If you like her AND she mentioned still going out if you changed your mind??? Go get her, man. Take the chance. If it doesn’t work out and you really aren’t ready, then that’s okay too. But it’s clearly eating you up that you said no, so just go to her.

...

You button up your coat and stuff your phone into your pocket, straining your head to the side to double check the time. Closing the store required a particular routine that you perfected, but you did not expect to see Bucky’s face at the front door. He did not notice you looking at him and you see the hesitation in his hands before he opens the door.

“Hey,” he says, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Hello again.” Bucky gives you a stiff grin and rocks on his feet for a few moments. The silence is deafening and it’s just about too awkward for you to handle.

“Is there uh..something you want?” He glances up and your eyes lock with his pretty blue eyes. You feel like you could gaze into them all day.

“Yeah, if you’re still up for it, I would like to go on that date with you. I’ve been afraid to put myself out there, but you’re so kind and beautiful..” his words trail off and he’s distracted for a moment at how you’re biting your lip nervously.

“I wanted to take a chance, so yes, let’s go on a date.”

“Do you wanna go now?” Bucky raises his brow and nods. You run to the back door to make sure it’s locked. When you come back, you see that Bucky took it upon himself to turn a few of the lights off and he hands you your purse.

“What a gentleman, huh?” He blushes and moves to open the door for you. You lock it up and turn to him.

“Does a walk in the park sound like a good idea?”

“Perfect.”

Since it was almost evening time, the park was not as busy. Bucky prefers it that way, and you do too. He’s so close to you, you can smell the little bit of cologne he must’ve put on. You want to tease him for it but decide not to. Instead, you purposely brush your hand against his own and Bucky immediately takes your hand in his.

“Maybe after this we could get dinner,” Bucky suggests.

“That would be nice. You can pick where.” Bucky thinks for a moment before responding.

“There’s this diner..a couple of blocks from your shop actually. It was there back in….you know.” Now that he’s thinking about it, he wasn’t sure you knew. He doesn’t wear gloves to hide his vibranium arm anymore and it’s an easy google search but you never showed any indication you knew about his past.

“I know about your past, Bucky. I won’t ask anything about it if-”

“No, it’s okay. I can talk about it.”

You nod. You're not planning to scour his brain about the haunting details of his life as the Winter Soldier, but you were curious about his life before that.

“Does it look the same as it did back then? The diner, I mean.”

“For the most part. There’s some newer technology in there and updated furniture but the style is all the same. It’s kind of nice to go somewhere familiar.”

The two of you walk over to an empty bench and take a seat. Your hands are still intertwined, resting on Bucky’s thigh.

“One more question about the 30s and 40s and then we can head on over to the diner,” you say, making Bucky laugh and nod his head at you to continue.

“How were dates back then? Like would you do the same thing we’re doing now or was there anything different?”

“It’s mostly the same,” he tells you. Bucky looks down at your hand, admiring how you rub your thumb against his hand.

“But there were these dances. I haven’t seen anything like them nowadays.”

“I think the closest thing we have to that is nightclubs. I’m gonna assume that is not your scene,” you say, giggling at his disgusted expression.

“It isn’t. I like forties music. I tried to listen to newer stuff and it’s not all terrible, but still not my favorite. I don’t think anyone in a nightclub will play Tommy Dorsey or Dinah Shore.” You ponder that for a moment as he turns to observe what else is going on in the park.

Quickly, you take out your phone.

“What are you doing?” All you do is smile at him, setting your phone down on the bench and standing up in front of him. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously as you hold your hand out.

“Mr. Barnes, can I have this dance?” Bucky takes a look around. There were a few people around who seemed to not take notice of the music coming from your phone.

“Gladly,” he accepted, taking your hand. Bucky placed one hand on your hip and pulled you in closer to him.

“I must admit, I know this was my idea, but I don’t know how to dance,” you whisper to him. Bucky shakes his head, smiling so wide he thought his mouth would start hurting. He slowly moves his feet side to side.

“Just this is fine,” he mutters. He tries not to take his eyes off yours, but you’re so close and Bucky can’t help but look at your lips, slightly parted and letting out deep breaths. He moves your hand rest on his shoulder, both of his own now holding your hips.

You trail your fingers from his shoulder to behind his neck, clasping your hands there.

“Thank you for this,” Bucky says and he hums along to the song playing, ‘Be Careful, It’s My Heart’ by Frank Sinatra. You smile at it, so he keeps humming. Bucky leans his forehead against yours.

“I know it’s not perfect-”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s with you. And this is...it’s nice.” You feel like your heart is going to burst. His eyes keep flitting down to your lips and Bucky leans in.

As his lips ghost against yours, you move your head, so he ends up kissing your cheek. He pulls back, a confused look on his face.

“Save that for the end of the date, honey,” you tease, leaning up to kiss his cheek. You linger your lips against his skin before moving away from him and his scoff turns into a laugh.

“I’m holding you to that,” he says, biting the inside of his cheek.

“I hope you do” you mumble and Bucky pulls you in close to him, making you squeal. He twirls you and brings you back into his arms, his lips touching the top of your ear.

“Let’s go get some dinner now.” You nod and grab your phone, opting to let the music keep playing. Bucky doesn’t hesitate from telling you random music facts about the artists as you make your way to the diner.

And as you ramble on about your own favorite singer, Bucky thanks the heavens that he took a chance on you and that it was going better than he ever imagined.

[sleepy-belphie]

I have a request if you’re up for it. An MC who just arrived in the Devildom who’s lover just dumped them the day prior. The bros know MC isn’t emotionally or romantically available at the time but the bros still fall in love regardless. How will the bros handle the situation? Thank you! 🙏💗

Hi! I sort of took this idea and ran with it and wrote basically a headcanon short story for each bro lmao. Sorry I got a bit carried away but I hope you like this and it satisfies you! :) 

Also thank you so much @midnight-dome for the help with Asmo, you’re a lifesaver

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

The success of the program depends on your wellbeing

So he checks in on you every other day like clockwork 

“Is there anything you need to make your stay more comfortable?”

You always say no

At first, he’s glad you’re staying in 

Because it means less trouble for him

But when you skip all of your classes one day, he comes to your room ready to give you a firm reminder of your tasks here

He’s about to knock when he hears you sob 

Now, Lucifer has heard a lot of crying in his life

But he’s never heard someone sound so completely broken

He shocks himself when he turns on his heels and walks away

He shocks himself even more when he texts the group chat and demands everyone leaves you alone for the day

That evening he comes into your room with a small plate of food

By then you were are least on top of your sheets

You knew he was gonna ask the same question as always

But this time, his words were different

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Help?” 

He simply nods

And though he didn’t outright say what he meant by help, you knew

“I...don’t know?”

“Hm, okay. I’m going to listen to some music in my study. The door will be unlocked should you wish to join me.”

Then he’s gone

The few precious moments Lucifer isn’t working, he prefers to not be disturbed

So why on earth did he invite you to join him in his study?

He doesn’t have time to ponder it because the door opens and you come in with a blanket wrapped around you

The first night you both listen in comfortable silence

A few nights in, you start asking Lucifer about the records he puts on and he has no qualms educating you on it

On night 10 you tell him about the breakup

Once you’re done he, again, asks the same question

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

‘You’ve done more than enough to help me Lucifer, thank you.”

He finds himself blushing from the sincerity in your eyes and the warmth in your smile

That night you fall asleep before the record finishes

Surely you’d wake up aching if he left you in a chair

So he picks you up, carries you to your room, and tucks you into bed carefully

He tells himself he’s doing it for Diavolo

It’s for the program, this is his job

He’s gonna need time to accept his own feelings before he can tell you anything

For now, he’ll keep doing his “job” and spending evenings with you

Mammon:

He didn’t want to be your babysitter

He was a busy guy! He had stuff to do, money to make, things to steal

Some days he gets Beelzebub to keep an eye on you so he can do what he wants

One night in particular he heads to your room to make sure you won’t interfere with his plans

“Yo! The Great Mammon has things to do so don’t-”

He pauses when he sees you sitting on your bed with your headphones plugged into your laptop

He would have assumed you were just watching a sad movie by the tears streaks on your face

But the pain in your eyes…

He’s seen that look before

His brothers held that same look the day they fell from Heaven and lost Lilith

Mammon sits on the bed and you jump, finally noticing him

You expected him to make fun of you but instead, he grabs the tissue box on your bedside table and hands it to you

He glances at your laptop to see what you were watching and sees a paused video of you and someone else

You tell him about the breakup and Mammon listens closely

“What a jerk! Ya deserve better than that! I’d teach ‘em a lesson if they ever showed their face around here!”

You smile for the first time since he came in the room and he feels like he’s done something right

“How about we get some late-night food? I know a 24-hour restaurant with the best baked newt ever. Your treat.”

He’s shocked when you agree

He makes a point to hang out with you more often

He can’t recall exactly when you went from “a human” to “his human” 

Maybe it was when you held his hand while you erased all your photos and videos of your ex from your computer

Or when you texted him at 3am because you couldn’t sleep and before he could even think about it he was up and on his way to your room

Or when he spotted you in one of his jackets while walking home from RAD

But his greed was kicking in and he wanted you to be his and only his

However, much like he puts himself first, he knows you need to do the same

So though his nature and mind wants to kiss you silly and have you for himself

Part of him knows he’ll ruin things if he lets his greed take over

So he’ll fight his nature and try his best to be patient

Leviathan:

He had been playing one of his games online

He’s on a big winning streak and feeling a bit cocky

He sees he’s been matched with someone else so he gets into gamer mode 

Then he loses the first round

He’s a bit shocked and pissed that his streak was now broken but he has to prove his superiority to whoever this opponent was

So he rematches them

And loses again

And again

He loses 7 rounds in a row

By this point he is fuming

So like any salty gamer he sends a very lengthy, angry message to their inbox

Accusing them of using cheats and hacks because there was no way anyone was more skilled than him at this game

He gets a reply a few minutes later

“Um.....is this Leviathan? Avatar of Envy? It’s MC…”

You knew it was Levi because his username is the same across all his social media platforms

Cue Levi barreling into your room a minute later

“How are you so good!? You’re cheating, aren’t you!? You cheater!’

You weren’t cheating, you just had been playing games day in and day out to distract yourself so you got really good at it

Levi all but demands you to come to his room and show him what you know

You were already playing all night anyway so why not play with someone? 

Initially, Levi would have you come over just to show him your tactics 

(Also to get some team wins on his stats because he never has anyone to play with)

But you were actually pretty chill for a normie

Maybe if he exposed you to his otaku ways you would take to them and he wouldn’t be the only one in the house anymore!

You don’t become an otaku but you do get invested in almost every anime he shows you

He starts inviting you over for midnight premieres of new episodes

He starts buying extra merch because what if you wanted one?

He was used to disproving looks from his brothers when he mass buys stuff from Akuzon

But you only smile and listen when he tells you about his new special edition item

You never once judged him and his unconventional ways

This epiphany makes him extra nervous for your weekly hangouts

It was only a matter of time before you came across a break up in an anime

When the episode ended you told him about your break up and how the protagonist reminded you of yourself because they also were taking a break from love

Levi has seen this anime before actually

He remembers how the protagonist reacted to a side character confessing to them and it went bad

So while he knows he likes you, he holds off on saying anything because the last thing he wants is to be a bad story arc in your life

Lucky for him he’s always a flustered blushing mess so you shouldn’t suspect a thing

Satan:

He is the Avatar of Wrath so whenever there is rage, he is aware

He feels anger radiating through the house one day and thinks his brothers are just fighting again

Imagine his surprise when he realizes the source of the anger is coming from your room

He walks in and sees you throwing things around and screaming, your room was destroyed

He sees you’re about to step on some glass and instantly swoops in and picks you up so you don’t hurt yourself

But then you curl up against him and burst into tears

He stands there, not quite sure what to do 

He ends up sitting on the bed and letting you cry for a while

You word vomit about your break up and he listens carefully and notes the anger welling up inside you as you speak

He knows all too well what anger can do to someone and a fragile human shouldn’t have to go through that

“Would you like some tea?”

He can spare 30 minutes for some small talk with the human if it meant that you wouldn’t be left in your thoughts

You look at him like he has three heads but agree because your room is a mess and you don’t wanna deal with it right now

Tea time becomes a daily occurrence and soon enough it escalates to full-on hangouts

Going to the bookstore, going to cat cafes, going wherever you wanted to really

One time you both took a day trip to the human world

Lucifer wasn’t happy to find out his brother and you were gone for an entire day but he lets it go when he sees that you’re smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks

What Satan didn’t expect was how these outings made him feel

He finds himself distracted from his books because he can’t stop thinking about how cute you looked holding that black cat at the cafe

Or how happy you looked when you took him to that ice cream shop in your hometown that you really love

He wakes up and you’re the first thing to pop into his mind

He’s not dumb, he knows he’s fallen in love

But he also knows this isn’t the right time, you aren’t ready

So he’ll keep being there for you as a friend

And if you ever want him to be there as something more, he’ll happily oblige

Asmodeus:

There was a movie night at the House of Lamentation

Today’s movie was an action movie, courtesy of Mammon

Amidst all the face punching and explosions, there was a budding romance between the main characters

After the third obnoxious makeout scene, you leave the room claiming you need to go to the restroom

But you leave just a *little* too fast and Asmo can feel something is up

And he thrives on gossip so he intends to find out what is it

He leaves the room a few minutes later and catches you in the hallway, determined to get you to spill the tea

You tell him about the breakup

He wasn’t prepared for the tea to be so bitter

“Oh. Well, you know what’s good for that? Face masks!” 

He had to save face somehow and beauty was his default

He’s a bit shocked when you agree but you both ditch movie night to do face masks and talk a bit

He decides to share a couple of bad date experiences he’s had to make you feel better

“Trust me, you haven’t felt embarrassment until you have someone vomit Enfield brains on your new pants and shoes while at one of the hottest clubs in the Devildom.”

You spent the entire night giggling and listening to his stories

Devildom products are surprisingly effective on your skin so you keep asking Asmo to show you new products

Plus his company is nice

Self-care days become a common occurrence

Then those self-care days become self-care sleepovers

He starts intentionally waiting to try anything new because he wants you to be there when he does

He buys more of those scented candles you told him smelled nice

A few weeks later you’re having a self-care sleepover again and you have this really cute focused look on your face while painting your nails

He knows he likes you, but this was different than his usual attraction

He didn’t want to fuck you

Well he did but not just fuck you

He wouldn’t mind if there was something more

But you routinely ended your self-care nights by yelling ‘Fuck love!’ at the top of your lungs and laughing

So he knows now isn’t the time and he’s actually okay with that

You were a sight to behold regardless of his relationship status with you

But he hopes you’ll indulge in him one day

Beelzebub:

Mammon keeps pushing his human watching duties on Beel

But he doesn’t really care because he’s being paid in cheesecake

After his third day of keeping an eye on you, he notices you aren’t eating much

Being the Avatar of Gluttony, this is basically a crime

He starts bringing extra snacks with him when he hangs out with you

“I think the chocolate flavor is better than the vanilla. What do you think?”

He actually doesn’t have a preference 

He just wants to know which snacks you like more so he can bring more of them

He makes a game out of it so you don’t think about how much you’re eating

“It motivates me to work out longer when I get a snack, could you help me?”

You sit on his back and after every pushup, you both eat a bit of whatever snack he has

He keeps going until he thinks you’ve eaten a decent amount

Or you say you’re getting full

Belphie notices that Beel is refilling his snack stash more often but he doesn’t say anything

Beel feels an immense sense of accomplishment when you finish your plate at dinner a few days later

Soon after you tell him about the breakup

“It hit me hard but you made it easier to cope, Beel. These hangouts are the highlight of my day so thank you.”

There’s a certain pang Beel gets in his stomach when he’s really hungry

Somehow your words made that pang happen in his chest

But this didn’t hurt him, quite the opposite actually

He felt good, he felt happy

It was strange for his stomach to be the quiet one while his heart went wild

But this wasn’t a change he minded too much

He wasn’t sure what to make of it but he knows he wants to figure it out with you

And he’ll take his time doing so because he liked how things were now

Belphegor:

He’s intrigued by you after the first week of your stay

He’s never seen a human who slept as much as he did

Frankly, he was impressed

Until Lucifer informed everyone about your recent breakup and made it clear to not upset you

That’s when Belphie realized these were not the leisurely naps he takes, but depression naps

One day he sees you sleeping in the living room and you looked so distressed

Sleeping was meant to be a peaceful state but you looked so unhappy

So he wakes you up

“You’re in my sleeping spot.”

You weren’t in his sleeping spot.

“Oh sorry, I’ll move-”

“You’re already here. We can both fit.” 

Before you can protest he’s all comfy next to you and falling back asleep

Having another person next to you was kind of comforting so you let it go and go back to sleep

What you didn’t know was Belphie could partially influence your dreams

He can make them more pleasant but he can’t control what you dream about

He knows it works when he wakes up and you have a relaxed expression on your sleeping face

You wake up soon after looking confused

“Good dream?”

“I think? I had a dream I rode a unicorn to the moon then carved my initials into it?”

Napping together in the living room becomes a routine

And every time you woke up you told him about the dream you had with a small smile

A few weeks later he notices he no longer has to influence your dreams for them to be good

So he leaves you be and instead curls up in the attic for his afternoon nap

He wakes up a bit when he feels someone lay down next to him

It’s probably Beel

“Why didn’t you tell me you moved napping spots?”

His eyes open and he looks over to see you pouting at him

“I just sorta ended up here.”

“Well, I can’t nap without my cuddle buddy now can I?”

You’re teasing him and he should be annoyed

But he’s blushing

He spoons you to hide that fact, resting his forehead on your shoulder

But while your dreams were getting better, it didn’t mean you were ready to move on

So he just enjoys his intimate cuddling sessions with you and tries not to think too hard about the fact that he really likes how your body fits against his

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's Delicate: PART I

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Content Warnings: Mention of NA meeting, some case talk, mild language

Author's Note: This is my first chapter fic! I've only written one shots before, so bear with me. I truly do appreciate all reblogs, likes, and comments. Thank you!!

It's Delicate

Spencer doesn’t really care for gas station coffee, but at 2:00 am it’s the only thing that’s open. He pulls into the parking spot and turns off his Volvo. The check engine light is on, he needs to get into a mechanic, but between his NA meetings and work, it’s difficult to even catch his breath.

So that’s what Spencer does. In the middle of the gas station parking lot at 2:00 am, Spencer sits in his blue Volvo and breathes. He takes deep breaths, the ones that he uses when he has to calm down victims when they’re rescued. It’s grounding, breathing like this he thinks. It’s the kind of breath that Spencer takes when his head is fuzzy from sleeplessness and the only thing that can keep his eyes from drooping is a steady stream of coffee.

He unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of his car. Shutting the door, Spencer surveys the rest of the parking lot. He sees a couple other cars in the lot, he supposes it’s the gas station attendants, but he feels his shoulders tense at the thought of trouble. The bell attached to the door rings as Spencer opens the door. It's a small convenience store, one that Spencer has been frequently at odd hours after the BAU’s jet lands. He’s grown to know the owner, Jeff, who for the past 4 years hasn’t been around all too often.

“I’ll take a regular coffee,” Spencer asks the young man behind the counter. He doesn’t say anything in return, but nods his head in understanding as Spencer hands him a $5 bill and tells him to keep the change.

“Night,” Spencer tells the man, who he’s never seen before, when he hands him his coffee. Again, the young man doesn’t answer. Spencer tries to salvage the awkward encounter by chalking up the man’s coldness by it being so late.

As Spencer pushes against the door with the sleeve covered part of his arm, a poster that’s eye level catches his eye. It’s one of those posters where you can rip off the phone number and contact the person. But instead of a 20-something looking for a roommate, it’s a book club advertisement.

Spencer, quickly for a normal person, but slowly for himself, reads over the sign. The book club is hosted at the local bookstore, Hooked on Books, that Spencer has always meant to check out. From what he can gather, the list of numbers are from people looking for what the poster refers to as “book buddies”. Spencer’s eyes scan the list. There aren't any names attached to the numbers, Spencer supposes that the idea behind that is so bias won’t come into play.

It almost seems like the perfect trap: rip off one of these little pieces of paper with a phone number and call that person with the intention of being their book buddy. It’s something that Spencer knows deep in his bones he’s meant to avoid. But it’s like there’s an invisible string pulling at him to rip the third piece of paper from the group and stuff it carefully into the safety of his wallet.

--

It’s been five days since Spencer visited the cold man at the gas station and took the number from the poster. In those five days, Spencer slept for two and was back on plane to the middle of Montana for the next three.

After a long day in the sun, Spencer relishes in the cold water from the hotel shower. Even though he had to crouch slightly, Spencer still appreciated the way the chilly water seems to wash him anew. He never sleeps well when the team is on a case, it’s like his mind can’t rest. Well, his mind can never really rest, since it’s technically always growing and changing, especially during sleep.

Spencer’s thoughts travel from his messed up circadian rhythm to the piece of paper that burns a hole in his wallet. He steps out of the shower and dresses in his pajamas. It’s cold in the hotel run, as JJ likes to sleep in the coldest temperature humanly possible. Spencer knows that she finds the weight of blankets comforting. He makes a mental note to put some of his pillows on JJ’s bed, so she can pretend it’s her boys and Will in the bed with her. Spencer can’t help but wonder what’s like to have a child or a partner that misses you. It must be so bittersweet: the promise of coming home, but the threat of having to leave them all behind at moments notice.

Letting his hair air dry, Spencer unlocks the door and enters his and JJ’s hotel room. Out of the whole team, Spencer likes sharing with JJ the best. She’s the most organized and usually, they’ll spend the night on FaceTime with the boys and Will watching a movie, depending on the time.

“You’re all good, JJ. Thanks for letting me get in first,” Spencer says, flopping down on his bed. He shuts off his light, essentially telling JJ that he doesn’t want to talk about the case, or Henry, or anything really.

“Good night, Spence,” JJ says, before shutting off the rest of the lights and heading into the bathroom.

For a couple of minutes, Spencer lays in the all consuming dark. He tries the breathing exercise that’s scientifically proven to make you fall asleep. He counts, one, two, three, four breaths in and holds for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven and let's go for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He tries it for a couple of rounds, but suspects thinking about numbers makes him think about the phone number. Spencer can’t exactly pinpoint why he’s nervous to reach out to the number. Maybe it’s his constant fear of judgement or fear of not being enough, he can’t tell.

Knowing that sleep is probably not coming anytime soon, Spencer rolls on his side so he faces the window overlooking the hotel parking lot. He can’t stop thinking about the case. The way the victim’s mother and father walk around the precinct with a lifeless look in their eyes, staying villgiant no matter how many times JJ tells them to go home and rest.

Spencer doesn’t want to think about the case, so his mind flits to another subject: Hooked on Books Book Buddies. He can’t really pinpoint why he didn’t reach out to his book buddy. But laying there in the bed, Spencer feels strongly compelled to do anything to get his mind off the case, so he climbs out of bed to reach for his phone.

It’s tucked away neatly in his go bag, unlike JJ, Spencer doesn’t have anyone that’s waiting for him at home. Sure he has his mother, but if she needed him, the home would wait until 8 am to call Spencer. He unlocks it and the blue light illuminates the room. Somehow, Garcia had convinced him to get an updated phone. Spencer hardly uses it, but does appreciate being able to get pictures of JJ’s boys and his mother.

He memorized the number in the ten seconds or so it took him to rip the little slip of paper from the poster and put it away in his wallet. Spencer punches the numbers into a new contact, but hesitates when he’s prompted to give a name. He doesn’t know the first thing about this person. Seriously, this is like FBI 101 on the do not listen, he thinks.

Spencer pushes the thoughts of serial killers, for what feels like the first time in ten years, from his mind when he hits the button to message his mysterious book buddy. He types out a message a couple of times, but ends up deleting them because he sounds so incredibly stupid.

Spencer: Hello. I do apologize for my late message. I work odd hours, but I came across your number at the gas station on the corner of Richmond Street and Connor Avenue in Woodbridge. If you are interested, perhaps we can have a conversation about Hooked on Books’ Book Club?

Spencer, realizing that the message he wrote is going to be as good as it gets, hits the little arrow for “send”. He watches as his message turns blue and the little gray delivered pops up. He doesn’t expect the person to send a message back yet. He’s all the way in Montana and they’re in Woodbridge, Virginia, presumably. If it’s 2:30 am in Montana, it’s 4:30 back at home. That’s a little too late for someone with a normal 9 to 5 to be up for work and a little too late for a person that’s joining a book club to haven’t gone to sleep yet.

Don’t profile them, Spencer.

“What’s got you glued to the phone, Reid?” JJ says, with a smirk as she walks out from the bathroom and climbs into her bed. She came in so quietly, or rather, Spencer was staring so intensely at his phone that he didn’t realize.

“Something with my mother, JJ,” he lies, and he doesn’t even know what he can’t tell her the truth.

“Okay, Spence. I just want to make sure you’re all good,” JJ says quietly, her back must be facing Spencer because her voice is muffled a little bit.

“Thanks, JJ, uh good night, now,” Spencer says, effectively ending the conversation.

JJ doesn’t say anything after that, perhaps she just understands that Spencer doesn’t want to talk. Spencer rests flat on his back and tries a couple more rounds of the breathing exercise, but nothing seems to make his brain shut off. Despite the way his eyelids droop and the way it’s almost painful to continue to think, Spencer can’t seem to fall asleep.

He thinks about his Book Buddy, whoever they might be. Spencer hopes that they are around his age. He can’t remember a time that he had a friend his age that wasn’t through work. He has people. JJ is the closest thing to a sister that he’ll ever get and he knows that Derek loves him like a brother, despite his teasing. Emily and Penelope are Spencer’s rock. And then there’s Tara, Matt, and Luke, though Spencer has really gotten a chance to know them all too well, he knows that they’re a team.

But Spencer has always dreamt of having a friend. As a little kid, he used to make up imaginary friends that would listen to his science facts and perform chemistry experiments from him. When he got to high school, his dreams were occupied by someone who’d reach for his hand after he’d been beaten down or strung to a football post. Sure he had Ethan, but that was something charged and electric that left Spencer longing for someone again.

Spencer hadn’t had dreams about a friend in a long time, but tonight he dreamt of coffee and books in a small café and a faceless stranger that would listen to him and laugh with him.

--

Even though he fell asleep relatively shortly after thinking about his Book Buddy, Spencer did not feel well rested. He turns around in his bed and notices that JJ’s bed is already neatly made. The bathroom is empty, so Spencer reckons that JJ and Emily must already be at the police station.

He wants to savor the last couple of minutes in bed, maybe chase a dream or two of strangers swapping books and making memories over expensive coffee and scones. But reality calls him back home. Spencer checks his phones for work updates (and maybe a message or two from his Book Buddy), but the only notifications on his phone is a Forbes article and a couple emails from Georgetown.

Spencer, heading to the bathroom, gets interrupted by a loud and persistent knock on his hotel room door. He opens the door, revealing an equally tired looking Luke. He waves Spencer good morning before slumping down in the desk chair in the corner of the hotel room.

“I’ve been sent by JJ to get you, she thinks you’re acting weird,” Luke says, expecting Spencer to explain himself.

Awkwardly, Spencer makes something in between a grimace and a frown. He rolls his eyes, but plays along with what he thinks Luke’s little game.

“Well I’m always weird, it would be weird if I wasn’t being weird,” Spencer says, heading into the bathroom with a pile of work clothes. He shuts the door, both literally on Luke and metaphorically on their conversation.

In the bathroom, Spencer dresses out of his pajamas and into a pair of well worn pants and a light purple button up. He forgot his contacts at his apartment, but luckily had a back up pair of glasses in his go bag. Spencer, looking in the mirror, never particularly carried for the reflection that looks back at him. It always seems like his hair is too messy, or his collar is all twisted, or his eyebags are too prominent.

At least the glasses can kind of cover up his eye bags, Spencer thinks as he shuts off the light and closes the bathroom door behind him. Luke, who still is slouched in the chair, looks at his phone.

“Waiting for Penelope to send you a picture of Sergio or something?” Spencer asks, the snark in his voice isn’t missed by Luke.

“You’re one to talk, JJ was telling me how you’re being kind of secretive for the last couple of weeks,” Luke counters.

“Yeah, that’s my work mandated therapist, Luke. You know from the time I was in jail,” Spencer shoots back a little harder than he intended. The look that Luke gives him is something akin to a hurt puppy and Spencer can’t help but feel a little bad for snapping at Luke’s teasing.

“Sorry, man,” Luke says, putting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “I get it, and you know I’m here for you, Reid. We might not be as close as you and Penny or you and JJ, but I’m here to listen to you,” Luke says, his hand on Spencer, who’s usually so hesitant to touch, is something Spencer never thought he would find comforting.

“Thank you,” is all Spencer can manage and somehow, Luke just gets it. They walk quietly to the parking lot where the SUVs are. The silence continues as they drive to the police station.

It’s still early, only 7:13 am. Spencer can only hope that they catch the unsub in the next couple of hours, so they can file the paperwork and be on their way to Quantico by 8:00 pm. Luke’s steady driving threatens to lull Spencer to sleep. His quiet presence, however, is interrupted with a buzz. Luke’s eyes dart to his phone that navigates them to the police station. He refuses to take direction from Spencer, who has a habit of being a terrible co-pilot.

“Check that for me,” Luke says, “it’s probably Penelope,”

Spencer raises his eyebrows and attempts to suppress a smirk at Luke’s blatant transparency.

“You know with updates about the case and whatnot,” Luke says, brushing Spencer’s teasing off and putting his attention back to the road.

“It’s not Garcia and for what it’s worth, Luke, I don’t see how she’d say no,” Spencer offers, genuinely wanting to see his two friends, who are so perfect for each other it’s almost ridiculous, get together.

Luke shuffles in his seat uncomfortably and pulls into the station. He shoots Spencer a lot, as if to say drop it. The last thing Luke wants is Tara and Matt to get wind of his excitement at Penelope texting him.

Spencer, who’s phone lights up alerting him that he has an unread message, feels a sudden surge in his heart. He’s so used to only getting messages from JJ about the cases or pictures of her boys, that a text not related to his work or his family leaves a smile to his face.

Spencer tries to not profile the message, but to just read it like a normal friend would.

Book Buddy (Y/N): Hey there😊! I can’t believe someone actually grabbed my number...I’m glad you’re interested in this. I’m Y/N and I don’t think you mentioned your name, I don’t make it a habit to meet up with strangers before not knowing their name.

Reading the message twice to make sure he can recite without any hesitation, Spencer’s face falls as he realizes that he forgot to tell them his own name. How could you be so clueless, Spencer, he thinks.

Quickly, because he knows that the rest of the team is waiting inside the police station, that is like a portal to the past, Spencer types out another message.

Spencer: My name is Spencer.

Spencer: I tend to be away for work quite often, so I do apologize for the late message. And for hiding my identity-- not that that was on purpose. Is it okay if we plan something when I get back to Virginia?

Spencer doesn’t expect a message right away, but he can tell that there’s going to be something Pavlovian about the way that little swoosh sound makes his fingers reach for his phone.

--

Thank You!! I love and appreciate all and every comments, likes, and reblogs. I love knowing what you think!!

--Taglist--

@shemarmooresfedora

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[reidsconverse]

bookstore • spencer reid

Spencer x Reader

Warnings: None

Based off of this request: reid,, falling in love w the reader bcos he sees them constantly in a bookstore reading his favourite fiction author (perhaps,,, stephen king,,,?) but he’s too shy to talk to them

It all started when his usual used bookstore closed for renovations, which was slightly more than an inconvenience seeing as the second closest used book store was a 30 minute drive away. He’d finished work early one day and decided it was time to stock up on some books to last him a week.

He got to the store about an hour before closing, just enough time to browse the shelves and see what this place had to offer, on the outside it looked bigger than his usual store which he thought could be a good thing considering his ability to fly through books at such a fast pace.

A small bell rang as he entered the store, the door that was slightly stiff with age closing behind him, there was one person at the desk who he assumed was the owner, they shared a quick smile as an acknowledgment of the presence of each other before returning back their original tasks. Spencer set out to find a copy of IT by Stephen King, Garcia had made them watch the movie at their last BAU movie night and it had sparked his intrigue to reread the novel.

The store wasn’t difficult to navigate and he easily found his way to where the book should have been, except it wasn’t there. He had called ahead earlier to confirm they had it to avoid a wasted trip. He quickly turned the corner to go and ask the person at the desk what had happened to the copy when he saw her.

Now truthfully, Spencer didn’t think he believed in love at first sight... until he saw her. Tucked away in the corner, wearing a beautiful yellow dress paired with a pair of yellow converse, she looked ethereal and Spencer almost forgot where he was and what he was doing. But then he saw it, no literally IT...the book he needed sitting in her lap and currently the owner of her attention.

Just as he was about to approach her to question her about the book, he saw her check her phone and sigh before getting up to put the book away. Spencer couldn’t help but watch her as she collected her things and prepared to leave, he wanted so desperately to stop her, ask her her name or even about the book. He just stood there frozen, pretending to look at the shelf of books.

“Are you lost?” He heard a small voice pipe up shaking him out of his trance, quickly turning around to see you looking up at him with wide eyes. “I know this store pretty well, I could help you find what you’re looking for.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before clearing his throat, “Uh no I’m ok thank you.” He regretted it the minute he said it, here you were offering to help him, to spend time with him and he had said no.

“Oh, ok, I hope you find what you’re looking for then!” The girl said, giving Spencer a wide grin. “This store has an amazing collection of works, I’ve been coming here for years although I never buy anything, I prefer to sit here and…,” She paused when she saw Spencer staring at her, she grinned sheepishly and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, "and I’m rambling I’m so sorry.”

“I-its fine, it's nice to see I’m not the only one who appreciates the vibe of bookstores, and I’m the worst when it comes to rambling I could talk for hours, my friends hate it when I start to go off on a tangent…” Now it was his turn to grin sheepishly, “as I’m doing right now.” He finished.

The girl giggled and looked up at him before saying, “You’re cute,” Her face quickly matching his in flushing red when she realised what she had said, “oh my god I’m so sorry I didn't mean to say that out loud.”

Spencer thought he’d died and gone to heaven. "No it's fine, thank you." He hated how awkward he was, why couldn't he be more like Derek with his smooth pick up lines and charms, maybe if he was less him he might've had the courage to continue the conversation and get her number, but no all he did was smile at her .

"I'm Y/N." She said, holding her hand out for him to shake.

He quickly looked down at her hand and before he could stop himself he blurted out, "The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss." He saw her purse her lips in confusion before retracting her hand and he immediately felt awful, "I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm Spencer."

She smiled at him gently and nodded, "It's ok...It was nice to meet you, Spencer... I uh, I have to go but I hope I see you around here again." She gave him a quick wave before walking over to the front desk, smiling brightly.

“I’m almost done with the book Laurel, it's incredible. Stephen King is so talented.” He heard her say.

“Oh y/n, I didn’t tell you, someone called ahead and placed a hold on the book.” Laurel, who Spencer presumed was the guy at the desk, told the girl with a sad smile.

Spencer felt his heart physically hurt at the smile dropping from the girl's face, a small adorable pout forming on her face and she let out a small, “Oh…that's a shame, hopefully, you get another copy soon. I'll see you next week!”

He heard her bid goodbye to Laurel followed by the bell ringing out through the store, indicating she had left. He quickly walked over to pick out the book he had come for, however, his intentions had changed in the short period of time he'd been in the store. He took out his pen and began to write on the title page, something he would never normally do but he had to see her again and this seemed to be the only way.

He took the book to the front desk informing Laurel he had been the one to call ahead and put it on hold, before paying for it. He looked up at Laurel and said "Actually, could you keep that safe and give it to the girl that was in here before...her name was Y/N. I overheard her saying that she was almost done and I've read it more than enough times."

Laurel smiled at the awkward man standing in front of him and nodded, "Of course, she'll be so pleased, she's been coming in once a week to read it and it would've been such a shame if she couldn't finish. You're so kind for doing this, I know she'll appreciate it."

Spencer smiled before glancing down at his watch, taking in the time and knowing he had to leave now in order to avoid the traffic back, he quickly bid farewell to Laurel and made his way back to his car before beginning his journey back.

- one week later -

Y/N made her way back to the bookstore a small spring in her step despite her disappoitment that she was to be unable to finish the book she had been reading for the past few weeks, she was excited to select a new book.

The bell rang as she walked into the store and she smiled brightly when she saw Laurel at the desk, "Hey L, how are you?" She said, walking over to him.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm great and I have a gift for you." He said grinning at the young girl.  

Her ears perked up at the mention of a gift. "A gift? Laurel you shouldnt have."

He chuckled before handing her a copy of the book she had been intently reading for the past few weeks, "Oh honey, this was nothing to with me... I think you should take a look inside." He said with a small smirk before going to the backroom to do whatever it was he needed to do.

She slowly walked over to her usual seat in the store and sat down before opening up the book,  she let out a small gasp as she saw the note Spencer had written the week before.

Dear Y/N,

I hope you don't find this strange or too forthcoming but after our brief meeting last week I knew that couldnt be the last time I spoke to you. I overheard you (I promise I wasn't purposely eavesdropping, its just a small store) mention how you love this book and how you hadn't yet finished it, I also heard how disappointed you were when Laurel told you someone had reserved it. That person was me but I realised that I'd much rather allow you to finish the incredible book than reread it for the 5th time. I hope you enjoy the ending of this book, if you would like to discuss it with me and share other book recommendations please feel free to text me. I'm not the best at technology but I am good at talking about books.

Here's my number: xxx-xxx-xxx

Kind Regards,

Spencer

She closed the book quickly, pulling out her phone and typing in the number.

Y/N: Hey Spencer, this is Y/N from the bookstore, I got your note. Would you like to meet up for coffee soon and we could discuss the book?

He replied back almost instantaneously which took Y/N by surprise.

Spencer: Hello, I'm so glad you weren't weirded out by the note I left, my friend told me it was a little creepy and I was worried. Coffee sounds great, shall we meet at the coffee shop opposite the book store tomorrow at 5?

Y/N: Sounds great! Its a date! :)

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 30, Post 1 by @blimeypeople

Hi! This is my first time writing a fiction story in English (I'm not a native english speaker) and it's unbetaed :(  If you have time to spot something wrong or if this story doesn't make any sense, just let me know, pretty please?

Thanks for hosting this fest. You're all so awesome!

---

Title: Don’t run, please.

Author: blimey,people

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Prompt: Parenthood

Rating: G

Hermione Granger-Weasley really thought her life was perfect, that she had achieved everything she wanted and made her heart happy: she had a husband who loved her, a job she enjoyed, saw her friends and family whenever she could (well Sunday lunches at The Burrow were an unwritten rule but she enjoyed them a lot), but then what was she doing running through the corridors of the Ministry of Magic? Hiding from her husband, that's what she was doing. She turned on the corner of one of the corridors, she was no longer running, but she was walking hurriedly heading in the direction of the main library of the Ministry, so big and wide that not only was it difficult to locate the books you needed, but also the people that were inside. The best hiding place, Hermione thought and quickened her pace when she saw him: Ron, standing in front of the large wooden doors, staring at his shoes in his scarlet Auror team uniform, which was somewhat wrinkled. Probably coming back from training, Hermione barely had time to think when she turned around running to the opposite side. They were quite far apart, so it wouldn’t be that easy for him to reach her but he was faster.

  "Hermione!" She heard him scream, but she couldn't stop, she was scared, she was afraid of having a conversation with him. She accelerated her escape as she felt his footsteps getting closer.

  "Hermione! Don't run, please! " She had heard that voice a few times. Her memories took her to a particular occasion, when she was also hiding, but from evil forces who wanted to end their lives and the life of their best friend. She couldn’t resist his voice, she had resisted it countless times while he asked her for forgiveness inside the horrendous tent. It hurt her soul, it hurt her not being able to hug him telling him how much she loved him, but her pride won. Only months later, she was able to achieve what her heart and mind most wanted: to reveal her feelings and be reciprocated. Now her heart and mind told her this was far more important, that this could perhaps destroy the relationship that with so much love, time and dedication they had built, this could possibly end one of their most cherished dreams, burst the bubble of joy and emotion that had appeared inside them almost three months ago. This could take away their most precious gift: their future child.

  So she stopped, took a deep breath, and waited for him to catch up with her. It didn't take many seconds when she felt his long fingers capture her left wrist leading her towards a deserted office.

  I should’ve flooed home, Hermione thought as she walked alongside Ron. He would have found me there in an instant though, I should’ve gone to..., she tried to complete the thought, when she was struck by doubt. Her choices were limited in terms of places where she could just go to think without being seen, without being interrupted, no questions being asked by anyone. Her childhood room in her parents' house might have been a great option, but now recently her parents had semi-retired from their jobs (occasionally they went to the office in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon, at times they took turns and one of them stayed home while the other went to work), thus Hermione didn't know for sure when the house was thoroughly empty. Besides if they found her in her old room on a Friday lunch, at the time in which she should still be at the Ministry plus they were aware that, due to her almost obsession with completing every unfinished task at the end of the week, Fridays were her most complicated days at work, it would potentially lead them to ask her thousands of questions and if she chose to answer truthfully, as she had done since she met them again in Australia two months after the war, tired of hiding things from them. This time, though, she was certain they wouldn’t be as understanding as they were back then. Now the situation wasn't just about her, it involved someone more important and vulnerable, someone they hadn't met yet but they already loved.

  Her parents, Jean and Hugo, were over the moon since the day they learned about the arrival of their first grandson or granddaughter. The imminent growth of their little family filled them with infinite joy. On countless moments, mainly when Hermione and Ron would give them the news about the birth of a new child in the ever growing Weasley family, the faces of Jean and Hugo gave away what they wanted: they were dying to ask her when she and Ron would finally decide to have one of their own. Therefore they were ecstatic. The decision to adapt a room on the first floor as a playroom for their future grandson or granddaughter came easily. Well, we don’t need a library anymore, do we, Hugo?, said her mom. It took them a week to disappear the shelves loaded with books that were once part of the room. Toys, kids books, little stuffed animals, big stuffed animals, a white cot and the largest most colorful collection of clothes Hermione had ever seen overflowed the rather large space. Apparently, her mother considered it was better to have more variety than later needing a neon green footie embroidered with dinosaurs and not having it on hand. Her father, more serene and restrained, but just as enthusiastic, had bought a beautiful memoir book for the baby, where he himself would be in charge of writing down every detail of his or her first year of life. However, Hermione was sure something was wrong with her for she hadn't been able to share the same level of enthusiasm of her parents or her husband hence she just smiled everytime they mentioned the baby. Therefore, she was certain Jean and Hugo would probably agree with Ron on this issue. So now he was being proven right, they would help him convince her to "do the right thing for the baby." Except she honestly couldn’t discern what was right anymore so the confusion and fear consumed her. She loved her job, enjoyed the responsibilities that came with it, rejoiced in every new challenge she encountered no matter the outcome, she was sure of it. Her newly discovered feelings for the little human being growing inside of her were what confused and scared her at the same time.

  Ron guided her to an old and solitary chair within the rather desolated office gently helping her to sit on it. Rather than sitting beside Hermione, he stood in front of her and crouched down. He took one of her hands, placed it on top of her knee, gently stroking it.

  “Hermione, the evidence is overwhelming. If they were able to send an object specifically charmed to harm you into your office, it is because they aren’t our most common enemies. It means they are doing their homework figuring out your routines. They’ve been following you for at least a few weeks. They knew that only us usually go there so you would open the package without a second thought,” Ron couldn't control the tone of sadness, anger and despair as he spoke.

  Minutes before lunch, Hermione received a small package wrapped in a black paper with little stars, the wrapping of Hermione's new favorite bookstore in Muggle London. She frequently went there alone and sometimes Ron accompanied her. She ran to get it, unwrapping it in an instant. She didn’t even have time to see the title of the literary work, when the book came to life and suspended in the air began to hit her repeatedly, increasingly hard on the chest, arms, legs. Her wand was on the handbag she regularly took to lunch. The book kept hitting her, in one moment heading for her belly. Hermione started to scream, moving as far as she could from the object. In seconds, the auror who was stationed outside her office managed to undo the spell. It wasn’t the first threat, that's why the auror guarded her office. Whoever was behind it, had tried to harm her on previous occasions but they had never been so close to actually hurting her. The spell was very powerful, the package was able to pass the rigorous inspection of the experienced auror. A mother who genuinely loved her child would already be home, protecting him or her by being away from danger, the thought stunned her. She began to run through the corridors of the Ministry even when she heard the auror screaming for her to stop. She didn’t want to see anyone, especially Ron, who a week ago had almost begged her to stay home for a few days while they determined who was threatening her.

  “Harry and I are very close to identifying who is doing this, Hermione. We just need you to get away from danger a bit… ” Ron started, looking her straight in the eyes.

  “I don't want to quit my job, Ron, not after working so hard for many years. I'm nearly there with the house-elf protection law… "

  “I know about all the work you've done, Hermione. I would never ask you to do it, if it weren't for… "

  "The baby," Hermione completed looking down, "I understand Ron, but I honestly don't think it's necessary ..."

  "Not putting our child at risk is more than necessary, Hermione, it will only be a few months," Ron interrupted quickly.

  "Ron, I can't. So many magical creatures trust in me..."

  "They will continue to trust in you when you return," said Ron.

  "We said having a child wouldn't alter our lives, that I would continue working, you know I don’t want to be a stay at home mum." Hermione felt Ron's hand tighten on top of hers.

  "It's not that. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if the situation wasn't like this," argued Ron, "Tough I must say you were the one saying having a child wouldn't alter our lives. I think you were trying to convince yourself. For my part, I believe that many things are going to change, things we won’t be able to control."

  "Ron…"

  "I reckon you're getting scared ..." Ron continued coming closer and reaching her shoulders to hug her.

  "I'm not…" Hermione tried to interrupt and wriggle out of the hug. But he knew her better than anyone. Hermione was sure he had noticed her doubts, insecurities and fears even before her.

  "I am scared too, I'm not just talking about the threats, because I can assure you that we are going to find out who is behind everything and he’s going to pay for putting you through this," his voice was harsh and he had struggled not to shout during the last sentence. "I’m positive you're scared for him or her too," his voice had taken a delicate, sweet tone, the tone he used when they fought and he wanted her to understand he was right without making her feel too bad.

  "You are doubting yourself, asking that brilliant mind of yours a ton of questions, not finding answers. You’re wondering if you’re going to do a good job or if you will love him or her enough. The fact is, Hermione, the love you will feel towards our child will never be enough, it will be infinite", he raised one of his hands caressing her cheek, “It's not about doing a good or bad job, love. It's about doing the best we can in our own way, making mistakes and learning together, because you do realize we're in this together, right?” Ron delicately squeezed her cheek, Hermione looked up, her beautiful blue eyes pierced through her with the deepest love, he lowered his hand placing it on her still small belly, “He or she deserves the world, I assure you we will give it to him or her when the time comes. What we can do now is protect our little one, we are not going to let anything happen to him or her. Okay, we should definitely find out if it’s a boy or a girl, I'm getting tired of this”, he grinned.

  In that instant, Hermione felt within her how the little life Ron and she had created began to move and the most profound love, love she only felt for the man in front of her, completely invaded her. Ron gave no sign of feeling it, but it wasn't necessary. She placed her hand on top of Ron's, looked him straight in the eye, and nodded. He smiled at her, hugging her tightly.

  At this precise moment in her life, despite her insecurities about her ability to love and protect her unborn child, the certainty of knowing Ron never made vain promises began to fill her with strength and hope. If he firmly believed everything would be fine, it would be. If he was by her side on this adventure, there was no doubt the next few years would be different, challenging, but wonderfully incredible.

[talesofarcadia78]

Sorceress of Arcadia || Becoming Part 1

Summary: Y/n Lake is Jim Lake's older sister. She discovers  that she is sorceress and her brother is the Trollhunter. She and the Trollhunters go on adventures together, they save trolls and humans. Along the way, a friend becomes more than just a friend and discovers their secrets.

Warnings: Bruises, mention of blood, pain 

Word count: 3,514

Tags: @lunariasilver​

N​ext >> Becoming Part 2 

Beep! Beep! Beep! 

UHH! 

My stupid alarm clock woke me out of my perfect slumber. You rolled over to your side and glanced at your alarm clock. 6:30 AM. You groaned, today was Tuesday, which meant SCHOOL! 

After another minute of groaning, you got up and walked over out of your bedroom and into the bathroom. You brushed your teeth and took a quick shower and got ready. You looked at yourself in the mirror. 

“Looking good, y/n!”, you thought to yourself and got out of the bathroom and rushed downstairs to the living room. You saw that Jim was already up and making what looked like breakfast but you might wrong though. 

“Good morning Jim! Your dear old sister is very hungry! Have you made anything for her?” you asked, walking through into the kitchen. 

“Morning y/n! You’re only 18, three years older, not that old. But yes, I have! Here”, he handed you a plate with an omelette and a glass of juice. 

“Thanks!”, as you walked out of the kitchen and sat at the dining table. 

You quickly finished you’re breakfast and ran upstairs to grab your bag. You noticed that Jim was in your mom’s room, leaving breakfast there for her. You smiled. Jim took so much care for our mom. She was working double shifts lately, and she wasn’t getting enough rest and ‘me time’. 

Jim closed mom’s room’s door, and headed downstairs with you. 

||||||||||||||||||||

As the garage door opened, you saw that the garbage bin was laying on the floor with rubbish spilling out. 

“Uh. Raccoons!”, Jim said, annoyed. 

He picked up the rubbish, when Toby (Jim’s best friend) rides over to us from him house across from us.

“C’mon Jimbo, y/n, we’re late for school”, he said, buckling his helmet on. 

“I know. I was busy with the lunches. One for mom, y/n, me and you”, he said walking with his bike to him and handing him a brown paper bag. 

Toby peeked into the contents of the bag. 

“I can’t, I’m on a diet”, handing the paper bag back to Jim. 

“You’ve been on a diet for 14 years Tobes!”, Jim argued, pushing the Toby’s hand away. 

They continued bickering, when I got my bike and ringed it’s bell, catching the boys attention. 

“Well I’m heading to school. See ya later!”, you said, riding off

You took in the morning view of the beautiful mountains and canals. You would never want to leave Arcadia. As you rode your Vespa through town, you saw many people driving to work and walking to school. Some people were at the cafe or at a shop. You noticed a guy turn a sign from ‘close’ to ‘open’ for GDT Arcane Books. He was tall and skinny, wearing a black shirt and jacket with black jeans and black shoes. He had raven black hair with blue dyed tips. 

Hmm, I’ve never seen him around town before. You knew practically everyone in town except for the students at Arcadia Oaks High, other then Jim and Toby. I rode until your school came into sight, Arcadia Oaks Academy. You didn’t go to the same school Jim because your mom, Barbara Lake, couldn’t afford both of us going to Arcadia Oaks High, so I went to the other school, since it was cheaper. 

You parked your bike and hung your helmet on one of the handles. You walked through the entrance and were quickly greeted with your best friend,  Rachael and Izzy. 

“Y/n! Guess what happened!”, both of them squealed. 

“What?! Tom Holland is coming to Arcadia?”, you asked, jokingly. 

“Nope! I wish! But I got you-know-who’s Instagram!”, Izzy said, jumping up and down. 

You looked over at Rachael, she nodded. 

“Wow! Good job Izzy. Now you just need to become friends in the real world, not just the Instagram world”, you said walking over to your locker. 

“Uhh....maybe”, Izzy said. 

You grabbed your books and shoved them in your backpack, it was an urban backpack, so there weren’t any zips, just weird looking strips that magnetically connected. So you were having a hard time, zips were way more efficient. 

You slammed your locker closed and headed to our first class of the day, HPE theory. You were walking to class while talking with Rachael and Izzy when, you saw Jim calling me. you stopped and picked up. 

“What’s up, I have my first class in 5 minutes, so hurry”, you said quickly. 

“Sorry y/n! I found something in the canals, that was calling my name, strange. But I’ll tell you after school. Bye!”, he said and hung up before you even had a chance at saying ‘bye’. 

You put your phone in your pocket and were about continue to class, when you tripped over your feet and descended to the ground. You were ready for the impact but you never felt it. 

Huh? You looked up, and saw the same guy from the bookstore. He had grabbed you by your arms. You quickly got up and faced the guy. 

“Thank you! I can be very clumsy sometimes. Oh sorry, I’m y/n”, I said, stretching out my hand to shake.

“No problem! I’m Douxie. Nice to meet you y/n. Oh and...”, he said, then ruffled through his pockets and took out two cards. 

He handed them to me, GDT Arcane Books and Mr. Benoit’s cafe business cards. 

“I work there. It’ll be great to see you around there”, he said, not meeting your gaze.

“Sure! You look new, you just came here?”, you asked. 

“Nah. I just don’t really show my face to the public other then at school”, he replied. 

“Oh okay. Well, I’ll see you around, bye”, you said turning around to go to class. 

“Bye”, he said heading the other way. 

||||||||||||||||||||

The whole day was exhausting for you. After your last class, you left and went to your brother’s high school. 

Jim rode over to me, as well as Toby. 

“Hey Jim! How was your day?”, you asked, as you rode your bike along side him. 

“It was good, I kinda got into a fight with Steve, cause he was bullying Eli, so yeah...”, he said, trying to sound like it was normal. 

“Yeah! Did you see how I chanted ‘let him out! let him out!”, Toby exclaimed, proud of himself. “Good thing your mom’s a doctor”, he said, while mom drove up to us. 

“Hey kids”, mom greeted us, rolling down the window. 

Toby tried to stop in-front the car while he said,

“Looking sharp Dr. L”, as he stopped and came into mom’s view. 

“Thanks Toby. You’re looking sharp yourself”, she complimented him. 

“Oh really! It shows?”, Toby says, showing his ‘muscles’. 

You chuckled. 

While Jim and mom were talking, you waved mom bye and rode to your house. You put your bike in the garage and walked upstairs to your room. You dropped you bag on the floor, and took your laptop out and started doing your homework. Then you heard the front door open, must be Jim. 

You ran downstairs, finding him sitting on the edge of the couch and looking at what looked like an amulet. 

“I have a feeling that this is what you wanted to show me”, you said, sitting next to him. 

“Yeah. Toby and I found it in the canals in the morning. It was calling my name. Strange right?”, he explained. 

You nodded. You then looked at the amulet, it looked ancient. Jim suddenly, started talking to it. When the amulet didn’t say anything, he got frustrated and told it, 

“Come one speak up or else you’re going up on eBay!”

He sounded stupid at this point, he was talking to an inanimate object for God’s sake! Then we heard something from the basement. We glanced at each other and headed to the basement. 

“Uh! Must be raccoons!”, you said, getting a broom for Jim and getting yourself a metal stick.

We headed down the stairs and then saw....nothing. We went further in when you heard something behind you. You tapped Jim’s shoulder and turned around. 

A blue creature that had 6 eyes and 4 arms came out of the shadow’s. 

“Master Jim!”, it said. 

Jim started screaming, when another creature was behind us. It was bigger, had green hair and grey skin, well stone. 

“Hi!”, it said. 

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. Then you looked at the creatures and backed away terrified. You couldn’t hear what they were saying since you were in your own thoughts.

How did they get in? What do they want? What are they? How do they know Jim? 

Then you snapped back into reality. The creatures were introducing themselves. The multi-eyed guy was Blinky and the brute was AAARRRGGHH and they were ‘trolls’. Then Jim passed out. You looked at the trolls. 

“Don’t go near my brother!”, you shouted at them and stuck your metal stick out at them.

“Do not worry sister of Master Jim, we will not harm him”, Blinky said, trying to calm you down. 

But that didn’t work you felt very scared, but you had to look confident, the complete opposite. Then suddenly, aqua coloured sparks started to flare out of your hands and onto the stick you were holding. Then a ball of aqua looking sparks shot out and towards the trolls. It hit them, making them stumble back. 

“Hmm. Master Jim’s sister is a sorceress. Who knew?!”, Blinky whispered to AAARRRGGHH. 

“I-I’m a what?”, you asked, lowering the stick. 

“A sorceress. In simpler words, you have magic”, Blinky explained, “We should make our exit. Lovely meeting you sister of Master Jim. We-”. 

“My name is y/n. So call me that”, you said, introducing yourself. 

“Oh okay. Lovely meeting you, y/n. Well, goodbye, we will be seeing you soon”, Blinky said and AAARRRGGHH waved. Then they were gone. 

You looked down at Jim. 

“What have you gotten yourself and me into Jim”, you said, as you picked him up and took him back to the living room. 

You set him on the couch, and went upstairs to sleep. 

||||||||||||||||||||

You had gotten up a bit more early and got dressed. It wasn’t the best outfit but how cares?

You grabbed your backpack and headed downstairs. You looked at the clock, it was 7. You then looked at the couch were Jim was sleeping, he was snoring very loudly. You quickly wrote down a note for Jim: 

Morning sleepyhead, I’m out, since you were asleep, no one was going make breakfast, so I’m grabbing something for Mr. Benoit’s. See ya after school. 🤪

You rode you way over to the cafe and placed your bike near a window. You walked inside and was about to order, when Douxie walked up. 

“Hey y/n. Were you going to order something?” Douxie asked. 

“Hey Douxie, actually I was just going to get black coffee,” you replied. 

He help up a coffee cup. You smiled and thanked him as the two of you settled at a table. You drank your coffee quietly, while Douxie ate his muffin. 

“Wanna go to school together?” he asked. 

“Sure” you replied. 

You grabbed your bike while Douxie grabbed his. You both rided along side each other and talked. When the school came into view, Douxie asked, 

“Wanna race?”

“Why not!”, you replied. 

You both start peddling faster. When thought you were just about to win, Douxie peddled a bit faster. You pressed the brakes, but you didn’t stop. It did not end well. You skidded on the concrete, scraping your hands, making them bleed, and you ankle landed the wrong way when you fell to the floor. Douxie was just about to rush over and help you when a bunch of girls came up to him and started oooing and ahhing over him. He tried to go over to you but he couldn’t. 

You looked at your hands, there were bleeding a lot. You tried to stand up but as soon as you did, you fell back onto the floor, screaming in pain. Your ankle was not okay. Douxie had heard your scream, making him loose his patience. 

“Excuse me girls! I need to get to a very important person, so please,” he shouted, sprinting to you. 

“Y/n! Your hands...”, he said, worriedly, looking at your hands. 

He took your hands in his and inspected the scrapes. As he touched your wrist, you winced, he had touched a bruise. He saw you wince in pain, so he quickly apologised. He looked at your ankle, it was turning to a purple shade. Since you couldn’t walk, he would carry you. He placed one of his hands under your knees and the other behind your back and lifted you up. 

“Douxie, this isn’t necessary. I can pull my own weight,” I protested. 

He had pulled you close to his chest, so you wouldn’t accidentally fall. 

You noticed that he was pretty tall, so you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and clinged onto him for dear life. 

“You can’t pull your weight, clearly and this was the only way. Plus I don’t think you have a lot of weight to pull,” he said. 

He was clearly referring to me being light. 

He carried me across the school, getting everyone’s attention. We were about half way to the nurses office when Izzy and Rachael came rushed over to us. 

“Y/n! What happened?” they both asked. 

“My brakes were not working, so I skidded on concrete and my ankle landed the wrong way so I can’t walk. I told Douxie that I could pull my own weight but he didn’t listen and so he now carrying me to the nurses office,” you explained. 

“Well look at the bright side! You’re getting carried by Douxie! Douxie!” Rachael said. 

Douxie and you blushed. 

“It’s nothing. I can do anything for y/n,” Douxie said calmly. 

Izzy and Rachael eyebrows shot up at his statement. Douxie realised what he had said and tried to explain, when you tightened your grip on Douxie. Your ankle started hurting a lot. You winced in pain. Douxie looked at you and apologised to your friends and continued to the nurses office. You whimpered in pain, as it got worse. 

“It’s okay y/n, I’ve got you. Nothing is going to happen,” Douxie whispered to you. 

Douxie tried pushing the door of the nurses office open with his foot but it didn’t work. A person in the office, noticed you and Douxie and quickly opened the door, letting you in. Douxie laid you down on the bed in one of the room’s. The nurse ushered him out and the nurse examined your ankle. 

After you were examined, the nurse told Douxie that she will be fine by the end of the day, and that he could pick her up after last period. 

||||||||||||||||||||

You had been sitting on the bed all day, having an ice pack around your ankle and bandages on your hand. The whole day was very quiet and boring. Then, you heard the bell ring, school had ended! You didn’t have to wait long, your black and blue haired friend came as soon as the bell rung. 

“Hey Douxie!” you said, as he came into the room. 

“Hey y/n! How are you feeling? Can you walk?”, he asked, shooting you questions. 

“She can’t walk fully yet, she can limp. You’ll have to support your friend home”, the nurse interrupted. 

Your eyes become wide when the nurse said that he had to drop me off to my house. Douxie nodded and walked over to you. 

“Let’s see how you can walk”, he said. 

He offered me his hand for support and you took it. As you put weight on your ankle, it started to hurt. 

“Ouch!”, you exclaimed, squeezing Douxie’s hands in pain. 

“Yeah...you can’t walk. I am sorry for doing this again,” he said, then lifted you up again. You got out of the nurses office and out of school, were your bike was. 

“Hmm. If you can’t ride your bike to school, then you’ll need a lift. Do you have a brother or someone that can pick you up?”, Douxie asked. 

“I have a younger brother. He goes to Arcadia Oaks High. I can call him-”, you said when you were cut off by Douxie. 

“I can call him. What’s his number?”, he asked. 

You told him and then he called your brother. 

“Hey, is this Jim? Okay, so I have got your sister, can you pick her up? She can’t ride her bike, I’ll come with you guys since her bag is with me. Bye,” he said over the phone. 

||||||||||||||||||||

“Hey Jim!” Douxie waved at Jim and Toby, making him come over to you. 

“Y/n! What happened? Are you alright?” Jim asked, worried.  

“I’m fine Jim, I’ll tell you about it at home,” you said, reassuring him for now. 

“Okay let’s go, before it get’s dark...” Toby said, looking at the sun setting. 

Douxie looked confused, but he pushed the thought away. He helped you over to Jim, where he his hand stretched out for me to take. I took it and looked confused. 

“Jimbo, where am I going to sit?” you asked, gesturing to his bike, where there was only one seat. 

“You are going to sit on the seat, while I ride,” he explained. 

You nodded. You sat on his seat and he started peddling through town, while Toby and Douxie were following behind.  

“Douxie, thank you for helping my sister, it means a lot,” Jim said, as we rode through the town and onto the bridge. 

“It’s nothing. I can do anything for her,” Douxie said, but then he realised what he had just said. 

You blushed. 

“Well I um mean that I can do anything um...” Douxie stammered. 

“Anyways! Toby why were you at the dentist?”, Jim asked, trying to start a normal conversation. 

“I’ll explain later. Anyways, let’s talk about you, Jim,” Toby said, changing topics. 

“What about me?” Jim asked, panicking a little. 

“You know, the LOYL,” Toby smirked. 

“Yeah Jim, who is this girl? Wait, is it Claire Nūnez?” you teased. 

“Uh...um..well...”Jim stammered. 

“Oh! Jim you have a crush? Have you spoken to her yet?” Douxie teased. 

“Well I did yesterday, during gym class,” Jim said. 

“Please don’t tell me you said anything to her in Spanish,” you said. 

When he didn’t give you an answer, you knew the answer, he did. 

“What’s so bad in talking in Spanish?”, Douxie asked, curious. 

“Jim starts talking in Spanish when he get’s nervous, which is usually when he talking to girls, more specifically, Claire,” you explained. 

Then your house came. 

“Well that is it for the day, see you guys tomorrow,” Toby said, riding to his home across from ours. 

You got off your brother’s bike and limped over to the front door and opened it. You collapsed on the couch, tired. Douxie came in and dropped your bag onto the floor next to you. 

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow, love,” he said, walking out of the door. 

Jim came in and dropped his things on the couch. 

“I’ll make sandwiches, you rest,” Jim ordered. 

You sighed, you limped over with him and then sat on top of the bench. You looked at you brother, he chopping and looking at the amulet. 

“Why don’t you try looking into it?” you ask. 

“Maybe I should,” he said, taking the amulet and walking outside. 

You followed him outside and sat on the stairs. He looked at the amulet and spoke the incantation. 

“For the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command,” he spoke, turning the amulet. Then the wind suddenly picked up, and you saw that the rocks started to levitate. Then, blue magic orbs appeared out of the amulet and into Jim heart, then he levitated and armour appeared. Then the pieces clicked together. At first it was very big, which you started laughing at, then it shrunk and fitted him perfectly. He looked like a knight, but without the sword. 

“This is so freaking cool!” Jim exclaimed. 

“Now you just need a sword to go with the armour,” I commented, when a few more orbs appeared out the amulet and drifted to his hand, which then created a sword. 

You were amazed. This was magic! 

“Wow!” you said. 

Then Jim started to do some ‘cool’ moves with his sword, but when it got stuck into a a rock behind him. You bursted out laughing as you saw him attempt to take it out. He eventually did, but then he got it stuck again. He tried again, and it got out a lot faster. He chuckled when he got it out. 

In having discovered all this, on the other side of town, Mr Strickler and Bular were planning to take it from him. But the amulet had found it’s champion, would it be that easy? l

[cupofsapphics]

Shared Love

Lana Winters x Reader

Summary: You were just browsing the shelves of a nice bookstore when you met a nice woman who shared your same passion for books and writing.

Taglist: @d14n4ol

Hehe this is just a cute story that I’ve decided to write cause my irl friend has been bugging me to send her a fanfic ;-;

Y/N POV

I’m thinking of what book I want from the bookstore. I’m tired of all the books in my house, I’ve read them all at least 10 times already. It’s come to the point that I can pretty much memorize the first 30 pages and how it goes. So I’m off to the bookstore.

I opened the door to see the place really crowded. I frowned. I visited the bookstore often and there was usually never this much people. Some event must be going on, for it was not unusual for someone host their event here. I partly wished they used the bookstore to, you know, buy books, instead of holding events here. Anyway, this large group was not gonna stop me from finding a nice book to occupy me for at least the first several days.

I was browsing the shelves when I saw a book labeled, “Maniac”. I was curious. As I skimmed the pages to catch the gist of it, a beautiful brunette appeared in the corner of my eye. She looked very familiar but I was too engrossed into this book. I was so busy reading the book and leaning on the shelves that I didn’t notice that brunette approach me. “Hey!” I nearly dropped the book and lost my balance on the shelf. “Oh hi, I didn’t see you there.” The woman smiled. “I see you like that book?” I was completely mesmerized by her beauty that I was pulled out of my thoughts when she mentioned the book. “Oh yes, I’ve heard of Lana Winters over the news, but I was curious to why her book blew up.” The lady nodded. “I’ve always loved writing and literature. It helps me express all my feelings with freedom. I’m sure you can relate.” I nodded for I understood what she meant. “I also recommend Shakespeare and Hamlet, if you want original literature.” She then went towards the crowd. I thought she was going to join the crowd, but then she sat in front of them in a chair with the book Maniac in her hand. No wonder she looked familiar, she’s Lana Winters! I just had a normal conversation with a famous writer!

Since I just talked with Lana Winters, I decided to stay for her event, which turns out to be a book-signing event. I already know what book I want to buy anyway. I sat down and enjoyed the event.

About an hour went by when I finally saw Lana sitting in front of a desk. I smiled nervously as she brightly returned it. “So I see you liked my book then?” I thought back to the time I read it. “I only read a small portion of it, but I really like it so far!” Lana gave me a wide smile as she signed my book. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but a gurl behind me politely asked if I was done yet. Not wanting to take too long I left. I purchased the book and went out. I decided to open the book to read a few pages. A few pages turned into a few chapters. The sun was soon about to set. I didn’t notice until a finger tapped my shoulder.

I was annoyed to who would interrupt my reading. I looked up and when I saw who it was my expression of annoyance changed into one of joy. “Enjoying my book, I see.” I nodded and closed my book. I took a look at my watch. It was about to be dinner and I didn’t have anything cooked yet. I groaned. “I need to get home, Ms. Winters. I need to go cook dinner or it’ll be too late” Lana was quick to respond. “Oh, I’ll save you the trouble, dear. I’m planning to go to a restaurant right now. It’s only 10 minutes away. Would you like to dine with me?”I thought about it for a few seconds. I would save me the trouble of cooking, cause good lord I was not good at it. I smiled warmly at her. “Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.”

—————————————————-

Hey guys I hoped you enjoyed this little one-shot hehe

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Eighth Letter

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

To: Xu Minghao

From: Y/N

Dear Minghao,

I just want to thank you for being my friend despite my awkward confession, even if this current friendship might not last long. Actually, I don't think it will.

I'll be honest here since I didn't tell you this yet.

I spent a few years away from love. My high school years had so many different love stories and none of them exactly had a happy ending. They were all bittersweet endings and even the love story with you is a bit bittersweet.

I guess I misinterpreted your actions. I'm not mad or extremely sad that you rejected me, I feel like that put me in my place. Now that I think about it, maybe we weren't meant to be lovers. So, I don't want to drift away from you just because you rejected my confession. I'm not going to love you like that anymore, I want to keep you as a true friend.

I hope you won't feel awkward around me. I can already feel the awkward air but I wish for it to fade quickly. Let's not stop being friends. I'll stop loving you though. I hope you won't think of me differently now that I've confessed. I feel like you would pretend that it's fine but inside, the awkwardness only grows.

As I'm writing this letter, the fate of us is still being determined. Even I don't know what we are going to become. If the ending for us is unhappy and we decide to stop being friends... Well, I would blame myself for it. I would be losing a friend that I adored.

MinghaoI won't ever talk about my confession again so I'm writing this.

, you're a really attractive guy. I'm sure that anyone would fall for you if they got to know you. You're fashionable, fun, kind, warm-hearted, and also a great therapist, haha. You give me the best advice and always listen to my problems whenever I need to let them out. You always encourage me to speak up.

Remember that one time when I was getting yelled at by the professor over a misunderstanding? I was just standing there like a complete idiot, listening to the professor's words of criticism when you stood up and said, “Professor, it wasn't Y/N's fault. If you looked closely, you would have seen that the dress already had holes in it from the beginning. It was a part of the design. As a fashion professor, how could you overlook that?”

Your expression was so serious and you completely cornered the professor. I feel kind of bad talking about the professor like this but I just want to praise you. The professor apologized after class but I knew he was unwilling to admit his mistake.

When you stood up for me for the first time, you left such an admirable first impression. I wanted to get to know you immediately! You were so cool speaking straightforwardly like that and not hesitantly speaking your mind and standing up for me. I still admire you.

Minghao, honestly, I don't think we'll be okay.

The words still kind of hurt me. Whenever I see you, I think back on those words you said to me.

Since I was just a friend that confessed, I don't think you would remember your response to my confession, so let me remind you; not in a bad way. Since this is a keepsake letter, I just want to remind myself.

I think you and I were in front of an art museum together. You invited me along that bright, sunny morning, and of course, after realizing my feelings, I couldn't deny your offer. I was excited.

I'm sure you'll never know my side of the story so I'll tell you everything that happened that day and why it leaves a small scar in my chest. I'm not blaming you for it, I'm blaming myself. Minghao, it's all my fault.

Honestly, I was too expectant. Gosh... I was way too ahead of myself that day. Our friendly hangout in my head was a date.

After you invited me and told me that you'd come to pick me up in 30 minutes, I rolled out of my college dormitory bed and rushed everything. I did my hair, makeup, and tried to dress prettily for you.

I did my best in that short amount of time but the only thing you complimented was my outfit. Sure, I was happy, but also disappointed. I was bummed because I didn't even have a chance to breathe, meanwhile, you were looking as fashionable as ever with almost no effort.

The museum was fun. I always had a knack for art so everything was admirable and lovely. What made it better was that I was able to spend that time with you. We shared our thoughts with each other but to me, you looked way too serious. I should have gotten the hint then that you didn't feel the same way about me as I did toward you.

Suddenly, this lump started forming on my chest and I just felt like I should get it off. I didn't want to hold back anymore so after walking around the art museum, the words just slipped out of my mouth.

Then you went silent while staring at me.

“I'm sorry.”

I said it was fine then because I thought I was really fine with the rejection. But just a bit after, I realized that I couldn't ride in the same car as you. I wouldn't be able to. Everything came flooding back into my brain, the memories of us that I thought were memorable. That's why I told you to leave first. I'm sure you knew that we both were uncomfortable.

After you left, I just sort of... reminisced our sweet moments that seemed romantic enough to make us more than friends. I did that while taking a walk.

I especially remembered the days when we went shopping, worked together after courses and talked about our days. Even these things that seem so small held so many memorable things to me, including moments that made my heart pound and race.

Since you rejected me, friend-zoning me, I can only conclude that you don't like me back, thus the conclusion that these moments meant nothing more than acts of kindness.

Minghao, you shouldn't be so kind, or else people would misunderstand you, like me. Why must you be so attractive? You're masculine but at the same time, you can become so soft and cute and caring.

Anyway, at this point, you've probably lost interest in reading this letter (if you ever read it). I hope you'll trudge on though as I keep going forward with the reminiscing. I know that you like reading, Minghao.

So, when we went to the bookstore, there was something memorable that happened to me there.

Yes, it made my heart pound too.

Yes, it made me fall harder for you.

I was really sleepy that day. All the college work piling up only made me more stressed and I was so tired. You didn't know that I was, did you?

I ended up falling asleep at a table while you were choosing books.

When I woke up, I saw your face. It wasn't upside down, you were sitting next to me, with your head lying against the table, facing me. It's still a question to me why you did that when you could have just woken me up or sat somewhere else, but well, you rejected me.

You and I just stared at each other. I was wondering then, what were you thinking?

At that time, I didn't know how you felt about me, so every little thing was hope. Your face was so close to mine and our bodies were against each other slightly. I was able to feel your warm breath.

“Are you wide awake now?” You asked.

Minghao, when you asked that, I honestly got the feeling that you were nervous because you quickly got up and removed the book you have placed under my head while I was sleeping.

You? Nervous? I guess I was wrong.

Even now, I feel a bit hopeful that maybe sometimes, I did make your heart race, but that's all just false hope.

We went clothes shopping around a month ago.

You wanted to get some new hats and I tagged along because we were friends. While picking hats, we were talking about normal stuff that we always talk about, so I was busy with that conversation. I was talking to you while looking at hats and then suddenly, I felt a hat plop down on my head.

When I turned around, I nearly bumped into your chest. Your hand was still on my head, where the hat was placed. I was so nervous and my whole body was burning up, you know that?

After that, you had to attack again with your soft giggles and smile, making me completely melt.

Then, you took off the hat and patted my head and ruffed my hair, then continued the conversation as if you didn't just do that to me. Of course, you probably never knew how I felt.

This is the last one, I promise.

I picked this one carefully.

That day after courses. It was a rainy afternoon and we were together at the library, studying and working together.

It was getting dark but we didn't expect the rain so we didn't take umbrellas with us. We ended up staying at the library for hours, just talking.

That was the important, special part of this memory.

We talked a lot and I was happy. You made a lot of jokes and I learned a lot more about you. You also smiled a lot. I was just really happy to be around you, talking about your life and mine.

I don't know why this one is the most memorable for me. I just always, constantly, remember the scene of us sitting at a table in the library, talking to each other beside a window painted with raindrops.

I don't know if you felt it but to me, it seemed more like we were flirting.

Minghao, now that I've reached the near end of this letter, I think I've decided the future for us.

Let's not stay friends. I don't want to fall for you. I don't want to love you. Being your friend would only make it worse for both of us since you didn't feel the same way.

You asking me to your b-boy competitions, you asking me to look at your art projects, it was all just normal things that friends would do but I overreacted.

It's all my fault and I'm sorry for it. I'm sorry and I know that I can't fix our friendship. I was such a fool.

Minghao, I hope you can find a better friend than me; A friend that doesn't misunderstand you, a friend that can love you without falling for you romantically, a friend that can be better than me.

My love stories always have a bittersweet ending so don't worry, you're not the only guy.

Thank you for being my friend for a year. I really appreciate it. You were a great buddy, fun, kind, serious, and caring.

I'm sorry for being this way.

I'm sorry for what I did, though I can't take back my confession.

I shouldn't have fallen in love, right?

Sincerely,

Y/N

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

© serenityseventeen

7/1/21 - 10:28 pm

a/n: Get well! Wishing our best leader a healthy recovery!!! + it's the month of July, which means... Wonwoo's bday (and my sister's). + Ending fairy Boo = iconic ><

[publiccollectors]

From the discussion “Towards A Self Sustaining Publishing Model” hosted by Printed Matter.

Some things I have learned in over 30 years of publishing since my teenage days as a zine maker, administrating my project Public Collectors, and from working in the group Temporary Services and our publishing imprint Half Letter Press.

I have just ten minutes to speak. If only one or two things that I share are useful, that’s plenty! It took me decades to understand some of this stuff.

Use every exhibition invitation with a budget to print something. Use the whole budget to print something. Make something in a large enough print run so that you have something to give away and surplus that you can sell. Your publication can be a folded sheet of paper, a booklet, a newspaper, a poster, a book, or anything in between.

Be able to print at least something at home. Buy a cheap laser printer or inkjet printer, find a used copy machine, buy a RISO or some other duplicator, carve something into a potato or a piece of foam and print it. Being able to do at least some of the printing and production at home—even if it’s on a tiny scale—will compel you to print things that you might have convinced yourself not to send out or bring to a professional printer. Hopefully the ability to print impulsively and compulsively will result in good work. Figure out how to keep making things on every scale. Look for cheap used printing equipment on Craigslist. Team up with friends and buy equipment together that you can share. Start a printing collective in your basement.

Ideally your publication should cost 1/5th or 1/6th of the retail price to make. If you sell a $10.00 publication through a store, you are probably only going to make $6.00 or less after the store takes its cut. So ideally your $10.00 book costs $2.00 or less to make. Don’t aim to just break even. Aim to make a profit so you can keep making more publications and pay for your life. Publishing will probably never be your sole income but don’t lose money on purpose. Make things that are priced fairly and look like they justify what they cost to buy. The fact that you didn’t find a more affordable way to print something is not an excuse to sell something that feels cheap and shitty for a ridiculous sum of money. Good cheap printing is easier to find than ever before. Do your homework.

Figure out the cheapest and least wasteful ways to do everything. Ask other publishers where they get their work printed. Look for local printers so you can avoid shipping fees. Ask local printers if you can pay in cash for a discount. Ask printers if there is a cheaper way to do what you want to do by adjusting the size of your paper or the paper stock or some other small shift in form. If you print things yourself, buy the paper that is on sale. Design a publication around the paper that you found for cheap. Discount warehouses sometimes have good paper. Even dollar stores sometimes have good paper. I’ve even bought paper at flea markets. Costco sells an 800 sheet ream of 24 lb paper for $6.99. I use it all the time. It rules. I also recommend getting your jugs of organic olive oil there, but you can’t print with that.

Free printing is good printing. If you have access to free printing, use it. Free printing is like free food at art openings and conference receptions. It is one of those pleasures in life that never gets old. Come up with an idea that is based around the aesthetics of whatever free printing you have access to and make the publication that way. Eat the cheese and bread. Drink the wine. Make the copies at work.

Buy bulk shipping mailers on eBay. Find bubble wrap and other packing materials in the trash. Look out for neighbors who just bought new furniture—it’s usually wrapped in miles of packing material you can use for shipping books. Boycott terrible right wing fuckers like ULINE. Seriously, they give money to everyone horrible. Trump? Check. Ted Cruz? Check. Scott Walker? Check. ROY FUCKING MOORE? CHECK FUCKING CHECK! Tear up their catalogs and use them as packing material to protect your books. Make publications that have a consistent size so you can purchase cardboard mailers in bulk and get a discount on them. Buy packing tape in bulk. Buy everything in bulk. You can store your extra reams of paper under your bed or on top of your kitchen cabinets if necessary. Be like a wacko survivalist prepper, but for office supplies. Go to estate sales and look for the home office in the house. Buy the dead person’s extra tape and staples and rulers and scissors. I’ve been using some random dead person’s staples for years because I bought their staple hoard. Staples aren’t like meat and milk. They don’t expire.

I’m against competition. Try to avoid competing with other artists for resources. If you don’t truly need the money, don’t ask for it. Artists should have a section on their CV where they list grants they could have easily gotten but didn’t apply for because they are privileged enough that they don’t need the money as much as someone else. I almost never apply for anything but the one thing I do apply for and get every year is a part-time faculty development grant from Columbia College Chicago where I teach. It pays adjuncts up to $2,500 a year to fund their projects and seems to be completely non-competitive. My union negotiated to get us more money. I have used that grant to make over a dozen publications. The value of the publications I make and sell with each grant is about three or four times the value of the grant itself. Some years I make more from the grant than I do from the limited number of classes I teach. But I don’t depend on this grant to be a publisher and I’d still be able to make things without it.

Make things in different price ranges so everyone can afford your work, but also so that you can sustain your practice. Make a publication that costs $2.00, that costs $6.00, that costs $20.00, and make something special for the fancy ass institutional libraries that have a lot of money to spare and can buy something that costs $300.00. Likewise, make things in all different size print runs. Is there something you can print 1,000 of that you can keep selling and giving away for years, to enjoy that quantity discount that comes with offset printing a large number of publications?

Collaborate with people and pay them with publications (if they are cool with that) that they can sell on their own. Sometimes this ends up being better pay and more useful than an honorarium, and it helps justify a larger print run. But see what they need—don’t assume. Barter with other publishers and sell each other’s work and let each other keep the money. This helps with distribution. Sometimes it’s easier to sell their work than it is to sell your own. Help others expand the audience for their publications.

Fund your publishing practice by asking your friends who teach to invite you to talk to their college classes about your work. Use those guest speaker fees to print something. I sometimes tell people on social media: If three or four people will invite me to speak to their class, it could fund the entire next issue of X booklet series that you like so much. This has often worked. Also, sometimes their students end up ordering publications. Sometimes lectures about publications generate more income than the publications themselves.

Have an emailing list and write newsletters to announce new publications. Stay in touch with people who like what you do. Expect to spend a ton of time corresponding with people. Have some cheap things and cool ephemera on hand that you can send people for free when they mail order your publications. Reward people who support you directly with something nice that they didn’t expect. People like handwritten notes. It’s okay if they are very short but sign the packing slip and at least write “Thank you!”

Above all, know that publishing is a life journey and not a get rich quick scheme, or even a make very much money scheme. Enjoy the experience of meeting and working with others, trade your publications with other publishers and build up an amazing library of small press, hard to find artist books. Get vaccinated and travel and sleep on each other’s couches. Be generous with your time, knowledge, resources, and work. Tell Jeff Bezos to fuck off by never selling anything you make through Amazon. Find the bookstores that you love and work with them forever. It’s nicer to have deeper relationships with fewer bookstores than surface level interactions with dozens of shops run by people you don’t know.

Think about your publishing family. Bookstore people are your family. People that organize book fairs and zine fests are your publishing family. Other publishers are your family. People who follow your work for years on end are your family. Printers and binderies are your family. The postal workers that know you by name and that you know by name are your family. The person who doesn’t care if you make the free copies at work is your family. Over thirty years later, I’m still in contact with people I exchanged zines with through the mail when I was a teenager. In some cases I still haven’t met them in person. It’s fine! They are my family. Your students are your family—particularly once they graduate or drop out, as long as they continue making books and zines. Your family is your family, particularly if they value and support your publishing practice. And for this reason, this talk is dedicated to my late father Bruce Fischer, who let me use the company copier and postage meter when I was in high school, and to my mom who sat on the floor with me and helped me hand collate and staple my zines.

That’s what I’ve got for now. Stay in touch and with luck, and enough vaccines and masks and hand sanitizer, maybe I’ll see you at a book fair. – Marc Fischer • Thank you to Be Oakley of GenderFail for the invitation to present, to the other presenters Vivian Sming, Yuri Ogita, and Devin Troy Strother, and to the wonderful people at Printed Matter for hosting this! You should be able to find the video archived on Printed Matter’s YouTube Channel.  Presented on April 2, 2021

[nerdygirl8203]

Old Money, New Feelings- Chapter 8

Warnings: angst, this is set a few months after chapter 7, drinking, sleeping around, mentions of smut

This chapter includes One More Drink by Gjan

Summary: the reader (y/n) finds out what this has been and why Ransom was being so nice to you.

Pairing: Ransom x fem!reader

(Sorry, I couldn’t add a continue reading since I’m writing this on my phone)

For months Ransom has been so sweet and kind. It’s like he looked in the mirror and saw his flaws. He is caring and shows his emotions more. Everything is great. Well, everything was great. Past tense.

I ran upstairs knowing his office is upstairs and I thought he would be excited to see me. I come into his office where I knew he would be since he’s always there when he and I aren’t together. I hear moaning. Female moaning.

“What about that girl? The one you’re always with.” The girls voice says. It’s muffled due to the door between us.

“She’s just some nice arm candy and a decent hole to fill.” Ransom’s voice rings clear even through the door. I back up stumbling a little. I hope he doesn’t hear me as I run down the stairs failing to hold in tears. I run to my car and that’s when I realized he did hear me.

I get in my car and I shut and lock my doors quickly. I try to stop crying before I drive. I don’t want to be in danger of crashing my car or hurting anyone. I see him run out in just some sweatpants. I turn on my car as he runs to my car door and starts screaming “Y/N open your door!” I look at him and I scream back “Back up. I don’t want to run you over while trying to get away but I will!” I need to get out and far away. God it hurts. I was an idiot for falling for this dick.

He doesn’t back up but I scare him by doing something he didn’t think I would. I start backing up my car and he moves away quickly. I drive off no longer caring.

I can’t go back to the stupid apartment that douche got me. I call my best friend over the car phone. I told her about this from the beginning and she even thought he changed from the playboy he was. I sob as I ask if I can stay with her till I find a new place that won’t have traces of him everywhere. She would never say no and she tells me that.

I’m at her place less than 30 minutes later. She holds me while I sob out and tell her what happened. After a week of blocking his calls and making sure my find my friend is off so he can’t find me. After one particular night of drinking my pain away she and I come up with an amazing idea to make him jealous.

In the last few months I wrote and released a song that blew up on Tiktok. I’ve written and sang a lot of songs now and Ransom hated it. He always did. My followers have skyrocketed on everything which would mean that Ransom would be watching anything I post like a hawk. He can’t have me saying anything wrong or even remotely bad about him.

We decide to have me sing One More Drink. As I sang to the music I feel the pain of everything wash over me. I end the song with me burning a cute letter he wrote to me. It’s just bullshit anyways. It all is. Every stupid word he uttered.

“I found out today that he’s a liar. Room full of him the smell of sorrow!” I still remember what it was like when he held me. I felt safe. “I don’t want to know if she’s like me. Or how much she loves the way you speak!” He had texted me trying to explain. “I found out today that you’re a liar, ah.” It brings me back to that day. “And I say I got stuck into you and I can’t believe it, oh, I’m on fire.” I’m an idiot. “Friends told me what to do. But I don’t believe it, oh, I’m on fire.”

I get into it feeling the pain and anger come over me “Ah, ah, one more drink tonight!” I repeat that with emotion three more times then follow it with a tonight. “Both said we’ll build our own empire, ah.” Lies. He lied about what he wanted. “How dare you say you didn’t try? Oh.” I keep singing

“It wasn’t like that. It just happened!” I could hear him saying it.

“I woke up at 4 stuck in a loop. I gotta confess it’s not my room.” I knew that would kill him. I hope it does. I hope he feels half of my pain. “You once said we’ll build our own empire. Ah.” I then keep singing and I end up finishing the song. I burn the letter hoping it would help me feel better.

We stop filming and I fall to the ground sobbing. My best friend edits it and post it for me. I can’t. I can’t keep thinking about him.

It’s another week till I even go out of my friends house. I just need to see life again. See things other than my pain and ransom. I go to the coffee shop but I quickly leave after seeing the cute couples who seem to be rubbing their happiness in my face.

I go to the bookstore I love. The place that makes me feel content and at peace. I stay in the back reading a horror story. I can’t help but understand why the girlfriend killed her cheating boyfriend. Though, I guess he wasn’t my boyfriend. I’m such and idiot.

I don’t even notice how late it’s gotten until one of the employees comes over to me to tell me they are closing. “I’m sorry ma’am but we are closing.” I look up at her. “Thank you. I’m so sorry for staying so late!” I get up quickly and since I already bought the book I leave immediately. I keep walking until I see a familiar car.

‘No. It can’t be him. It wouldn’t be him. Why would he even come this way. This is a crappy area in his words.’ I keep walking at my normal pace after haven slowed for a moment. I keep walking just wanting to lay down in a bed and sleep away that pain I feel deep in my chest.

“Y/N.” I hear a familiar voice say. It can’t be him. I’m going crazy. I keep my walking feeling my heart pounding. Part of me wants it to be him but it won’t be. It can’t be.

I believe that until I feel what is undeniably Ransom’s hand grabbing my wrist. I whip around and I glare at him “Hello Hugh.” I say coldly.

“Dont do that sweet heart. Please don’t do that. I understand you hating me or being pissed but don’t do that.” His face is softer than expected and his voice is sweet and calm.

“Don’t do what? I just said hello Hugh. I thought I was being polite. Isn’t Hugh your name?” I glare pissed. “I get why you’re mad but please listen to me. I just... I need to talk to you.” His eyes are red.

Maybe that’s why I said we could talk. Maybe it was his puffy eyes or how you could see how pained he is in his face. I hate what he did but I still don’t hate him. I can’t hate him no matter how much I’ve tried. “Come with me, we can go somewhere more private.” He says softly. I let him show me the way to a small cafe with no one in it, he undoubtedly rented it so no one would be here. I can’t help but hate that it makes me feel special, I want it to make my blood boil. I don’t want to feel especially loved when he does this. I want to be mad at how cocky he was to just assume I’d come with him. I walk in and he holds the door for me, I have to stop myself from saying thank you to him. I don’t want to be nice to him at all. I want him to be mad. I walk to the booth that is in the corner and I sit down. I sigh softly and when he tries to hold my hand I move it away even though I long to hold his hand.

“Listen, I didn’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.” He says then I scoff “Bull shit! You fucked a girl when you were pretending to care about me. I should have known better. I should have known you were just messing with me to get what you wanted.” I huff. “She was just some girl from a bar I went to when you said you couldn’t come over.” “I had work! You know, the thing people do when they need money! Oh wait, no you don’t know that, everything you’ve ever wanted was handed to you on a silver platter.” I spit word venom at him angrily. “That’s not true! I worked to keep you didn’t I?” My jaw actually drops. How in gods name could he do that to me and then say he worked for it! “Bull shit! I’m just a hole that you used to wet your cock. “You know what, just fuck off. You and I would never work anyways. Maybe when you grow up like a big boy and get a real job I’ll reconsider your bull!” I scream at him and I get up off the seat quickly. I leave the cafe not looking back no matter how desperate he sounded.