#because the new movie that’s coming out sometime this year doesn’t seem to have one either

[jhilsara]

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 3

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Another year goes by and your friendship with Spencer is better than ever… too bad its a rough year. A birthday surprise, another Halloween adventure together (but make it a musical), Sister fights, and you finally find out what Spencer's day job is.

Word Count: 11.5k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, bank robbery, Season 7 finale

Previous|Next

The one where Spencer turns 30  

Spencer hasn’t left his apartment much lately. Besides going out for calls at the BAU and working on finding Ian Doyle, he doesn’t have much energy for anything else. Except for the new doctor he was seeing for his migraines. She was actually helpful in comparison to the others he had seen.   

It’s only been four months since Emily Prentiss died and Spencer doesn’t feel any lighter. He just seems to be spending more time debating on whether he’d feel better if he started using again. At least he’d be numb. Feeling numb sounded better than being miserably sad at the loss of one of his closest friends. He knows in the back of his mind, if he did start using dilaudid again he wouldn’t be able to truly put his all into the Ian Doyle investigation. That’s what keeps him content to stay sober.   

Spencer hasn’t visited the bookstore, not nearly as much as he used to. It’s enough to cause worry so you’ve started to call him at least once a week. He’s sure that you probably wanted to call every day. You worry and fret over him, and he knows it’s just a part of who you are, but he doesn’t feel deserving of the attention.   

Especially when you take it upon yourself to visit occasionally.   

He always opens the door for you, he can’t help it, he doesn’t want to worry you. Even though when he looks at your face, he sees the clear concern behind your eyes.   

He always knows when it’s you because your warmth and brightness almost roll off in waves that gently brush and seep under the doorway. You’re a force of nature. One where you shed some color into his incredibly bleak world.   

The only other friend who checks on him in the same kind of way would be Penelope. Which, she’s grieving in a very different way. It’s also hard for any of them to talk about Emily together without it being tainted by their Doyle investigation. He knows this isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but he’ll be damned if he stops looking for the man that took away part of his family.    

There’s an ease and tenderness that comes with you. You've never pushed him to tell you what’s wrong. You'll ask, always testing the waters, shaking his raft, but you never push. You don’t force him down into the depths of his own consuming thoughts. The ones where he thinks he’s drowning and can’t recover from. The ones where all of his intrusive thoughts prick at his brain like tiny needles, trying to prove nonexistent points.   

It wasn’t that you weren’t curious, because you definitely are. Sometimes when he closed off the conversation, he could see the hurt in your eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, because Spencer would trust you with anything, you’re his best friend outside of the BAU. He even spent last New Years with you and your dad, Big Joe. Well, mostly you had made dinner, they watched Big Joe’s favorite movie, which Spencer happily listened to him give all his endless movie knowledge. After you put your dad to bed, they went out to a bar for a few midnight drinks.    

Spencer just preferred to keep the FBI parts of his life out of his personal life. It’s been refreshing to not be a federal agent when he’s with you. If he had to explain everything about Ian Doyle and Emily’s death... he was slightly afraid you wouldn’t want him in your life anymore.    

Or worse, he’d endanger you like Hotch had with Haley...   

So, Spencer does what he truly does best, holds his feelings close to his chest with his secrets. If your smile faltered when he couldn’t tell you what was happening, he’d bite his tongue. He couldn’t lose another friend. Not you. Even if his secrets kept you at arm's length.   

-   

It’s a random day in the middle of August when Spencer finally walks back into the bookstore. It surprised you so much you ram yourself into the edge of the checkout counter. You curse under your breath but shoot him a hesitant smile.    

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” you softly said as you placed the books down to give him your full attention. Almost approaching him like he is a wounded animal. 

Spencer nods, “world keeps spinning, life goes on.” he said with a small shrug and a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.   

He couldn’t tell you that his dead friend faked her death and was alive all along. Just in Paris... while two of his friends lied to his face. That absolutely isn’t a can of worms he’s willing to unload onto you. Not today, maybe not ever. He still had some anger to process that he doesn’t want to direct towards you. Spencer takes a deep breath and starts walking toward the cafe.    

You followed after him and smiled brightly. “Well, I’m glad to see you anyway.” you touch his shoulder lightly. “I’ve been worried about you.” you said warmly as you move behind the counter to make him a coffee.    

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He starts to rebuttal, but you cut him off.    

“I was going to worry regardless; I don’t know how to turn it off unfortunately.” you tried to joke lightly.    

Spencer just furrows his brows, “Do you worry about everything?” he asked. It comes across harsher than he means it to, but it rolls off your back.    

“No, just about people. I’m worried about Birdie, like all the time, not to mention dad. I’m also constantly thinking about my coworkers, Josie... My friends in Georgia...” you pause and bites your lip.    

“That probably sounds like I don’t do anything else besides worry.”    

“It sounds like anxiety.” he deadpanned.    

You shrugged and offered him his coffee. “Probably.”    

“Oh! Spencer, since you’re here!” you quickly change the subject whirling around to the computer, “Do me a favor and sign up for our new rewards program. I need a test guinea pig to make sure it actually tracks the points.”    

Spencer nods and waits. You swiftly tap information into the computer screen.    

“It’s only a few questions,” you murmured, “Full name...Spencer Reid. Date of birth-” you froze looking up at Spencer.   

“I don’t know your birthday.” you said it like it was a genuine surprise and frown. “We’ve known each other for almost three years, how do I not know your birthday?”   

Spencer gave a soft chortle of amusement, “I’ve never been in town for my birthday. I’m weirdly always out for work. Besides-” he shrugged. “I don’t know yours either.”    

You dramatically groan. “I cannot believe I didn’t know this! Birthdays are so important!”    

Spencer tilts his head curiously, “I didn’t know you liked birthdays that much?”   

“Don’t you? It’s the one day to truly celebrate a person. I mean you don’t need a day to do that, but doesn’t everyone want to feel special just one day? I mean you make your way around life another year and you should earn just a little treat for it! Living sucks sometimes.” you said matter of factly.    

You're so passionate as you talk, Spencer almost forgets it’s even about birthdays.     

Spencer paused before his brain autofill's information like a search engine, “Did you know that the birthday celebration actually started in ancient Egypt with Pharoh's? It wasn’t for common folk at all. They acted as a coronation for a Pharoh. Greeks and Romans adopted them for their worship of the gods but really, individual birthdays weren’t well known. For a long time in history.” Spencer info dumps what he knew and smiled triumphantly.    

You nod, listening, you always listened to Spencer when he had the wealth of knowledge to just disperse whenever. It was charming.   

“Sooooooo, what I’m hearing is, we should celebrate everyone like they are their own gods?” you tease him.   

Spencer rolls his eyes, “Not what I meant.”    

You hummed in amusement, “Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” You smiled, like you had a secret. “What’s your birthday Spencer?”    

“October 12th 1981.” He tells you with a sigh.    

You plug it into the computer, and you realize quickly that Spencer’s about to turn 30. You looked up at him, “That’s only a few months away. Makes sense it’s October.”    

Spencer fakes a dramatic gasp as he looks at you in shock, “What’s that supposed to mean?”    

You give him a deadpan look as you finish typing in the rest of his information. “It means- that for someone who loves Halloween it doesn’t surprise me you were born in October.”    

“What’s your e-mail?” you asked him.    

“I only have my work one and I’m not using that for your rewards program.” He said in fake exasperation, “By your logic,” he picked back up their conversation, “that means you also were born in October.”    

You make a fake buzzer noise, “Nope!” you pop the P. “Try again.”   

Spencer raises a brow, “There is a 1 in 365 chance for me to guess right. That’s not even one percent.”    

“Do you care if I just put in my e-mail? We’re just testing it, I’m doing it anyway.” you tap away at the computer, “Also- ever heard of a zodiac sign? Thats at least like 1 in 12 chances. Better odds.” you gave him a pointed look.   

Spencer rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously making me guess zodiac signs?”    

You wiggled your brows, “What? The genius doesn’t believe in the fate of the stars.” you smirked to yourself as you typed away at the computer.   

“Do you actively want me to stereotype you?” He asked with a teasing smile of his own.   

“Tik tok, it’s either guess the sign or the date.” you joke.    

“You’re stubborn enough, let’s say Taurus.” he replied with a snark.    

You rolled your eyes and made a tsk sound, “Nice try, but WRONG. I’m a Cancer. A summertime baby even though I hate hate hate summer.” you groan thinking about the heat.    

“Then your logic definitely doesn’t make sense.” He laughed in exasperation.   

You shrugged, “never said I was right.”    

Spencer glared playfully, “No but it was implied.”   

You just brush him off. Finishing up the rewards program. “I think it works. It should track your drink purchases, and every tenth drink is free!” you said excitedly.    

“You never charge me for my drinks.” He reminded you with a look of mild confusion.   

“Shhhh, don’t let the other customers know I have favorites! They’ll get their feelings hurt!”    

-   

You’ve been scheming since you found out Spencer’s birthday. 30 was a milestone and you weren’t about to let him go by without even an itsy bitsy teenie weenie celebration. You weren’t going to throw a surprise party or anything. After the fiasco that was a friend's surprise party when they were 21 you vowed to never again. The last thing you had expected was for everyone to find out that your friend's roommate was cheating. Screaming surprise to a pair of twentysomethings trying to eat each other’s faces and their actual boyfriend being in the room was rough.    

You learned no more surprises the hard way.   

The only surprise you had was you were determined to have Josie bake one of her delicious cakes for him. You begged Josie, just a small chocolate cake with a gorgeous violet frosting. Nothing too insane, Josie just was the best baker you knew. Her cakes were to die for, but most of her pastries were.    

Josie agreed, but only if you agreed to take the deposits to the bank for the Holiday season. You lived closer and Josie hated dealing with the general population outside of what she had already seen during the holidays.     

You've been hiding Spencer’s cake in the back freezer for a day, hoping he wouldn’t be out of town for his birthday. You had called him earlier in the week and asked him to swing by on Wednesday if he could. You had told him you really needed a taste tester for your new Halloween treat. Sugar was Spencer’s weakness.    

You're pacing back and forth, trying to not be on edge, but you’re riddled with so much excitement it’s hard. You've been decorating the new display case filled with Halloween themed books. You are hanging up a garland in the window display when you see Spencer walking down the street.    

You quickly finished hanging up your ghost garland and quickly ran to the back freezer to get his cake out to let it defrost a bit. You throw candles and a lighter on the counter in the back room and you try to make sure everything is set and ready to go.    

The bell rings all the way through to the back and you compose yourself before stepping out again. You stick your head out the back door that divides the cafe from the back kitchen and waves to Spencer.    

“Back here!” you shout.   

The bookstore only had a few patrons tonight, none of which were happily there to hang out or study. They were perusing the isles, and you had already given them a few recommendations of books. You know an insomniac when you see one, and these people were the kind that needed something besides the empty fridge to look at for their late-night brain. It was later than normal, around two in the morning, when Spencer came walking in.    

“I almost thought you weren’t coming by tonight.” you tease leaning against the counter.    

“It was a late work trip.” He said with a tired smile.    

“Well, I have a treat for you. Taste testing if you will.” you said, turning to the back room.    

“I need you to close your eyes though. I’m really proud of it.”    

Spencer rolls his eyes at your antics but does as you’ve asked.    

“No peaking!” you shouted, and Spencer could hear the door to the back close behind you.    

You check the cake, and it's good to go. The back freezer wasn’t cold enough to freeze it solid, so the cake is still easy to cut. you press the candles into the top, a three and a zero to make 30. You slowly light the candles and back up to bring the cake out. You gently set it down in front of Spencer, who’s just standing there with his eyes closed and a goofy grin.     

“Okay, open.”    

Spencer opens his eyes, and he looks stunned. His mouth just kind of hangs open like a gaping fish before he murmured, “This isn’t a Halloween treat...”    

“Happy birthday Spencer.” you whisper looking at his reaction and trying to gauge it. “I didn’t make your cake, Josie did, but I promise her cakes are the very best.”    

Spencer was stunned into silence. He truly didn’t expect you to remember his birthday, or know he was turning 30. Hell, even his team wasn’t aware it was his birthday until Emily told them. Which, he does appreciate her listening to him. He was having a crisis over his own accomplishments.   

You start getting antsy when Spencer doesn’t respond. He’s standing there with his mouth open. You start rambling, “I just thought, you know, 30 is a big deal! It’s a milestone and I didn’t get to celebrate your past two birthdays so I thought this would be a nice treat... I know I didn’t ask if you even like surprises, but it was so small-”    

Spencer cuts her off.    

“Sorry, I just... thank you.” He tells you with a soft smile. “I love it.”    

Your eyes light up and you brush your hair out of your face. The nerves leaving your body.    

“Make a wish Spencer.”    

Spencer doesn’t have to think about it as he blows out his candles.    

“What did you wish for?” you asked, grabbing a knife to cut his cake.    

Spencer raised a brow, “Well if I tell you, it won’t come true.”    

You roll your eyes, “Didn’t peg you to be superstitious.”    

Spencer just shrugged at that and bit his lip. If his wish had to do with you, well, you didn’t need to know.    

The one about Rocky Horror Picture Show  

Spencer’s sorting through the collection of DVD’s you’ve brought over for their movie night. You brought an eclectic mixed taste of Halloween movies, from Hocus Pocus to Insidious. Spencer pauses on Rocky Horror Picture Show and you make a noise of excitement.    

“Oh, we should watch it! I’m going to the showing next weekend and I’m so excited.” you said, reaching for the bowl of popcorn.    

“I didn’t know they still showed it in movie theaters, I’ve never been.” he said casually popping open the case to grab the DVD.   

“What do you mean you haven’t seen Rocky Horror Picture Show? It’s like quintessentially a Halloween staple.” you said in abject horror.    

Spencer is once again being berated for his lack of pop culture knowledge. To be fair, he does know the movie. So, he isn’t fully aware of why you are looking at him like he has two heads.   

“I’ve seen the movie. I know what it is.” He gives a scoff and shakes his head.    

“No, that’s not what I mean. Why haven’t you ever been to a local show? It’s iconic!” you said exaggeratedly.   

Spencer rolled his eyes. “My job doesn’t always let me preplan my events well. Besides, it can’t be much different than watching the movie at home.” He said turning to press play on the DVD player.   

You audibly gasp standing up from the couch.    

“Spencer Reid, that is blasphemous! You are absolutely coming with me to a viewing of Rocky Horror, like immediately.” you demand planting your hands on your hips and shooting him a playful glare.    

“What makes it so different?” He cocked his head in confusion, brows furrowed. “It’s a musical from the 70’s that barely makes sense in the plot line and some of the verbiage is really outdated, borderline offensive really.” He states matter of factly.   

You sighed, “You don’t understand art! It’s about the experience of the show, it’s such a great time going to a live show and seeing everyone in costume and singing together, chanting, using props! It’s one of the best things to be in a room of similar people just having fun.” you told him in a dreamy voice.   

Spencer nodded, still not fully getting your image, moving to go sit on the couch, “I didn’t know they were so... performative.”    

“They are some of my favorite shows I’ve been to. Especially bringing new people.” you plop back down on the couch next to him.    

“Why?” he asked, turning to watch the opening credits, leaning down to grab his late-night coffee that wasn’t nearly as good as what you make in the cafe.   

“Because they’re virgins.” You said it like it was so obvious. Like it was a fact as simple as the sky is blue.   

Spencer almost chokes on his coffee.    

“Excuse me?” he asks a little baffled.    

You roll your eyes, “When someone is brought to a live show and they’ve never been, they’re a virgin. There’s even a silly virgin ritual that’s super fun. The whole nights a blast.”    

Spencer goes quiet, his face bursting into a red flush, “It’s not... it’s not like a sex thing, is it?”    

Your laugh filters through his apartment bright and loud. You shake your head, “God no Spencer! I’m not going to some crazy orgy almost every year.”    

Spencer started coughing and looked at you with wide eyes, “I wasn’t implying that you- I-... shit.”    

You just shake your head still trying to control your laughter, “Well you have to come with me now Spencer, to heal my wounded ego. I’m going on Halloween. Dress up please?” you asked with a bat of your lashes.   

Spencer covers his face in embarrassment but nods, “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll go. Can we please just watch the movie now?”    

“Can do.” you snickered settling back into the comfort of his couch.   

-   

Before you can leave, you have a few things you need to check first. Spencer is picking you up to walk to the theater together, which is sweet. You go to check on your dad before leaving.    

You knock gently on your father's door before opening it a crack, “Daddy?” you whisper.   

Big Joe is passed out in his bed, the television still playing faintly in the background of some sports game. His snores letting you know he was out for the night.   

You shake your head with a sigh before going in to turn off his television and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.    

“Love you, I’ll be back later.” you whispered.     

You check your outfit one last time in the mirror, looking at her Janet inspired pajamas. She was wearing tights, a silk slip dress, and wrapped in a similar silk night gown. You were going as Janet in her under garments, but something you were okay with wearing in public. You throw your long coat over it to keep yourself warm.    

You hear Spencer’s gentle knock on the door, and you quickly move to grab the last few items. You grab your large tote bag, double checking to make sure you have all the props you wanted to bring. You look in your wallet to make sure you have both tickets, and you feel confident.    

You slide on your heels and open the door to greet Spencer.    

“Hey! I’m ready.” you greet excitedly, moving to close the door behind you.   

You look at Spencer and see he’s dressed as Brad from the start of the movie, glasses and all. You grin as you tilt your head.    

“I didn’t know you wear glasses?” you said with a tiny smile pointing at his face.   

Spencer shrugged, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” he said holding out his arm for you.    

“A gentleman too!” you faked a gasp as you wrapped your arms around his. “To the theater!” you proclaim with an exaggerated drawl of your accent.   

It’s not the shortest of walks, but the duo arrives at the theater only a little chilly. Mostly you, even under your coat. You present the tickets, and they are quickly ushered inside. You immediately relax, feeling the warmth of the heater.    

You move to hang up your coat on the rake and Spencer catches what your actual costume is. His face flushed a bit.    

“You, you look great.” He almost chokes on his words as he compliments you.    

You do a little spin, your loose robe fanning out around you. “Thought it would be cute and comfy!” you tell him with a proud smile.    

You come back up to Spencer to link their arms together again, “Come on let’s go find our seats! I wanna make sure I have the props in the right order.” you looked up at him with unbridled excitement that’s just too contagious.    

Spencer just gives a nod, “Lead the way, Janet.”    

“Aren’t you just a peach Brad!” you responded without missing a beat.    

Everything about this movie experience is the exact opposite of what Spencer would expect when going to see a film. Almost everyone in the crowd was dressed and just as many were carrying around props.    

Your bag was filled with rice, newspapers, playing cards, he was honestly impressed by the Mary Poppins effect. He couldn’t see the bottom and every time you pulled something out, he really thought you had hit the end.   

The Time Warp plays, and you drag him out of his seat to dance together. The whole room ignited into a loud cacophony of singing. Your laughter is the only sound he can hear pierce through, and he finds himself smiling alongside you.    

Once that musical number ends, they almost fall back into their seats, you lean closer to him and whispers in his ear, “Are you having fun?”   

He turns and nods, bending down to grab some left-over rice to toss at you playfully. “It’s a blast.” he laughs.   

You squeeze his arm, “I’m glad.”    

The evening is chaotic, loud, and so so so messy. By the time the movie ends the theater is a real mess. You grab as many of the large props as you can and shove them back into your bag, trying to make the clean-up at least a bit easier.    

Once they’re outside, and you’re wrapped back up in your coat, Spencer takes a deep breath.    

“Soooooooooo?” you start, giving him an expectant look.   

“I had a lot of fun. I totally get the theater experience.” He chuckled looking over at you.   

“Good! Maybe we can make it a tradition.” You said giving him a gently nudge with your elbow.   

“You mean add more activities to our Halloween calendar? How will we ever find room!” He says in jest.    

You shrugged lazily with a dramatic sigh. “We’re just too festive Spencer.”   

“Clearly, we’re going to have to start Halloween in September next year.” He suggested.   

“Oh, that would give me something to look forward to!” you said in excitement.   

Spencer walks you home and drops you off at the foot of the apartment.    

“Thanks again Spencer. It was so much fun going with someone again.” you tell him with a soft smile. “I haven’t been able to go with anyone since we moved here.”   

Spencer steps forward to brush your hair out of your face, “I love spending Halloween with you.” he whispered.   

Your face bursts into a deep flush as you can feel your heart almost beat out of your chest. “Goodnight Spencer.”   

“Goodnight, Y/N.”   

The one where Birdie visits  

You're cleaning some dishes left over from breakfast when the doorbell rings. You sigh, knowing it’s far too early for Spencer to come by to pick you up for lunch. It has to be Bridget. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect, since you had just dropped your father off for a checkup.   

Your baby sister had called last night asking if their dad would be home tomorrow. You were too hopeful to think that meant Bridget was trying to spend time with their dad. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get Bridget to spend some time with their dad. Since he’s been diagnosed it’s almost like she can’t stand to be in the same room as him. Big Jo tries to not let it hurt his feelings, but you see his face and how he deflates.    

The day she came by, and he was in a wheelchair, it was like they’d both been hit by a truck.    

You plant a forced smile on your face as you answer the door, “I thought you were coming by later? When daddy would be here.”    

Your sister shakes her head, shoving her hands into her coat pocket. “Nope, I just needed to stop by before I started running my errands for the day.” she said calmly.    

“Well come in, come on, it’s freezing.” You step aside to let your sister in. Bridget quickly sheds her coat and scarf hanging them on the rack next to the door.    

“Magpie, did you pack any of my stuff when you moved daddy up here?” Bridget asks, walking into the kitchen and making herself a glass of water.    

“Come on in, fix yourself a drink, don’t mind your sister... by the way do you have my junk?” you mock crossing your arms as you raise your brow at your younger sister.    

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just in a hurry.” Bridget replied rolling her eyes.    

“Well, what are you looking for Birdie?” you asked.    

“I told you, it’s Bri.” She murmured with a sour face. “I can’t find any of my old high school stuff.” she said casually.    

You lean against the counter, “I didn’t take any of that stuff. I just packed up the essentials.”    

“So, my stuff is in a storage unit?” Bridget asked irritated.    

“No Birdie, it’s all still at the house in Georgia. I have Aunt Jo taking care of it. All your stuffs at home.” you replied exasperated.    

“Aunt Josephine? I thought she was like... a recluse?” Bridget asked, making a scrunched face.   

You roll your eyes, “No, Aunt Jo just never liked Lauren, so she never came around.”    

“God, can you just call her mom Magpie? I hate it when you call momma Lauren... it’s weird.” Bridget said defensively.    

You look up at Bridget with a raised brow, “I’m good, thanks. That would involve her having to stick around to be my mom.”   

“I’m not getting into this with you again.” Bridget says in a huff of frustration hitting the counter with her hands.    

“Fine.”   

“Fine.”   

Silence settles over the two sisters, and you go to open the fridge to grab a prepackaged cold coffee.    

“Soooooooooo,” you drawl out as you open the drink.    

Bridget looks at you with a suspicious look.    

“What are your Christmas plans?” you ask, trying to be casual.    

“Jamie and I are going to see momma in Florida. We’ve had these plans for a while.” She said defensively not making eye contact.   

“Birdie come on, you haven’t spent the past few Christmases with daddy, and if you did see him, it was for twenty minutes or a crummy half assed phone call.” you plead, throwing your hand up in emphasis.   

“Y/N, I didn’t come here for a lecture, I just needed to know if you packed my shit when you decided to pack up all our lives and move out to DC without asking me.” Bridget murmurs bitterly under her breath.   

Your brows furrow as you’re taken aback by your sister.    

“Bridget, I didn’t pack up everyone's lives- we still have the house in Georgia!" You said mildly irritated.   

Bridget just rolls her eyes and puts her glass in the sink. “Whatever...” She murmured.   

You feel that small part of yourself, the one that gnaws and claws bubbling under your skin, poke itself to the surface. “What was I supposed to do? I had to make a decision for dad’s health!” you feel your voice rising in irritation that only your sister can bring out of you.   

“Besides, I wasn’t the one who moved to DC to run away from her family.” you state bitterly.   

“Oh, come off it!” Bridget throws her hands up in defeat. “I’m not running away-this was the best program for me, and you know that!”   

“Then what do you call never seeing dad! You even called to ask if he was home before you came today, Birdie, just so you could avoid him... What would you call that?” you feel your voice raising and can’t stop the vitriol that spits out of your mouth at your sister.   

There’s a pit in the bottom of your stomach that twists and churns when it comes to your sister and your dad. You had tried so hard to get her to understand that their father was dying. They’re already lucky with the years they’ve gotten. He’s beaten the odds, but he can’t go on forever. You don’t understand how Bridget can just act like life is normal when every day could be their dad’s last.   

“It’s not my fault daddy’s sick!” Bridgit shouts, her own voice cracking, “It’s not my fault you’ve given up your own life to be his caretaker! So, stop blaming me for living my life, while you’re stuck here playing nurse!”    

“I’m not blaming you-”   

“Yes, you are! You always blame me-”   

“No, I don’t Bridget! If anything, I’m jealous about how selfish you can be!” you feel the words tumbling out of your mouth like bile before you can stop herself. You're so angry and sad all the time. It’s not fair that you’re so aware of your father’s mortality while your baby sister gets to run around and live her carefree life.    

“I just wish you’d think about the fact that daddy is dying!”    

The silence that falls between them is thick, the tension tight, about to break. Bridget looks at her sister with hatred, “I’m very aware he’s dying Y/N... I’m not stupid.” she whispers out in a hard tone.    

Bridget turns around to grab her coat and rushes quickly to the door.    

You dig your heels in more, the words almost vomiting out your mouth in fierce resentment, “Go on Bridget, run away like you always do! I’ve been taking care of dad alone, anyway, not like he has two daughters!” your voice peaks and cracks in frustration.    

You blink away the fat angry tears pricking your eyes.   

Bridget turns on her heels to face her older sister, flipping you off, “Fuck you!” she hisses out in a venomous tone.   

Bridget elbows her way past the man in front of her almost knocking him down as she runs off.    

You rush to the door, about to yell something else after her when you see Spencer standing to the side in shock.    

Your shoulders drop and you look ashamed, closing your mouth tightly. You take a deep breath.    

“How much of that did you hear?” you asked quietly.    

You can’t find it in yourself to look up at Spencer yet, embarrassed by your own unbridled rage.    

He moves to push you gently back inside, “enough...” he replied softly closing the door behind him.    

“C’mon sit down.” He gently moves you to the couch, forcing you to sit down.    

He disappears into the kitchen for a short while and you sit on the couch looking at your lap. You feel the wave of resentment you were holding onto leave and be replaced with the intense sorrow that follows. The tears that were building finally fell, landing on your lap as you sobbed, trying to hold back your voice. Your throat feels tight as you sit there trying to hold yourself together, to not scream your lungs out.    

You feel the sofa dip next to you and a small mug is pushed into your hands. It’s warm tea.   

“There’s a lot of honey in there, I wasn’t thinking so it might be too sweet.” he said softly.    

You just shake your head and sniffle, trying to compose yourself. “No such thing...” you tried to joke, moving the cup to your mouth, your hands shaking the whole time.    

A sob escapes you before you can even drink the tea.    

“I’m sorry,” you tried to say, the tears just sliding down your face, you look up at Spencer your lip quivering and eyes red.    

Spencer gently grabs the tea and puts it on the coffee table before he opens his arms for you, and it doesn’t take but a short second before your face is in Spencer’s chest bawling.   

He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly, rubbing soothing circles into your back. Your body shakes from crying, you sound like a small child with how the sobs rip through your throat.    

Spencer holds you until you calm down enough, he finally feels you stop shaking.   

“Do you feel better now?” he whispers.    

You pulled back and tried to dry your eyes, you could already feel the puffiness settling.    

“No...” you murmured pitifully. “I feel worse, like I’m a bitch.” You look up at Spencer and see the massive wet stain from your tears.   

“Sorry,” you point to his shirt, “didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. I thought you were coming later?” you said in a tiny voice.    

“I was running early so I thought I’d just drop by, was that... Bridget?” he asked in a soft voice.    

You nodded. “We were fighting about dad... again.” you admit finally grabbing your cup of tea that he made you.    

Spencer face makes a silent ‘Oh’ as he nods in understanding.    

“It sounded pretty bad.” he replied.   

You groan, “I don’t like fighting about it. I don’t like fighting at all!” you said facing him. “We used to get along great, then... I don’t know. Everything changed when our parents divorced, and the gap just never stopped growing... Now there’s this great divide I can’t seem to reach across and...” you pause, taking a deep breath trying to stop the words from just falling out of your mouth. Exposing your raw skin that you’ve picked at so much your bones are exposed telling your story.   

“I know she thinks I hate her for living her life.” You sigh looking at Spencer, who’s just been sitting and kindly listening. Attentively. “I do sometimes resent how carefree she is... but” you bite your lip.   

“Spencer, I’m so scared that when dad dies... it’ll just,” you scoffed, “Me and that god forsaken bookstore.”   

“I don’t want to lose them both.” you said, your eyes brimming with tears again.    

If there was anything Spencer felt confident that he could do, it was helping you handle loss. He’s experienced it enough.   

“You won’t be alone.” He tells you confidently; he reaches out to hold your hands tightly. “I’ll be here.” he reassured you.    

“If there’s anything I’ve learned, everyone handles grief differently. Bridget...she might not be able to handle how sick your dad is.” Spencer tried to reason, anything to make you feel less alone.   

“Avoiding it won’t make it go away...” you muttered.    

“No, and she’ll eventually see that. You can’t force her to confront that fear.” he said pushing your hair behind her ear.    

“It’s so hard, how do you do it? Alone with your mom?” you asked softly.    

Spencer loses his breath for a moment before he swallows. Trying to find an answer.    

“Well, she has doctors she trusts now. And a home that she feels safe in... but I spent my childhood taking care of her.”    

Spencer scoffs, “I resent my father, he left a child alone to take care of a sick mother? He never helped me.”    

You give him a soft nudge with your shoulder, “my mom's pretty shitty too.”    

Spencer gives a hollow chuckle, “Does everyone have a shitty parent?” he asks, squeezing your hand.   

You lay your head on his shoulder, “There has to be good parents... we just- we got unlucky.” you whisper.   

“Maybe we did...” He murmured.    

Silence settles between them and it’s calming, not the tense air that was with Bridget.    

“You never told me what happened with your mom.”   

You tense up.    

“It’s not a story I like telling...” you sighed, “When I was thirteen, I overheard my parents arguing. Long story short, my mom cheated on my dad. Bridget was so young, like six, so when they divorced, they tried to lie to us. That it was mutual. Civil... I knew the truth though; I couldn’t look at my mom the same after that." you told him with a bitter smile.    

“I already lost my mom; I just couldn’t take away Birdie’s...”    

“You never told her?” he asked in surprise.    

“It wasn’t for me to tell. I just, I was a teenager...I wanted to protect her you know? She didn’t need the bitterness that bites at the back of my throat every time I see that woman.”   

Spencer nods in understanding. “You know, you’re allowed to feel angry. You don’t have to be agreeable or happy about everything. It’s okay to get mad sometimes.” His hand moves up to gently brush your hair.    

You don’t respond to his statement, just try to not cry anymore.    

“Can we go get lunch now?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.    

“Anywhere you want.”   

The one where you find out Spencer works for the FBI   

It’s a rough morning.   

Massively rough, actually. Your alarm didn’t go off and if it wasn’t for Spencer calling you, you’d still be heavily sleeping.    

You roll over to grab your phone and answer it.    

“Hello?” your voice comes out groggy, slow, and thick with sleep.    

“Hey! You still want to go to the convention? I’m leaving soon and I can swing by to grab you.” Spencer’s voice comes through.    

You panic, and shots up staring at your bedside clock. “Oh god, Spencer I’m so sorry! I slept in!” You jump out of your bed and almost trip over your own clothes strewn on the floor from the night before.    

“It’s okay- I can wait if you need me to-”   

“No, no no! You were so excited, don’t wait up!” You interrupt him as you throw clothes from your closet around trying to find something you want to wear.    

“It’s no big deal.” Spencer started to answer but you sighed.    

“Spencer are you already dressed?” you pressed, grabbing one of your comfortable but cute skirts and a simple sweater. You throw them on your bed.   

His silence is enough of an answer.    

“You are.” you sighed and shook your head, “I have to go to the shop and pick up the money to deposit for the bank today. I’ll just meet up with you later. Promise. I just have to run this errand first.” you told him with a soft tone.   

You hear his small huff, “It’s really not a big deal,”    

“Spencer” you chastise him. “You’re already ready to go. I’ll probably just take a little over an hour. Then I'll be there, okay? Just do a few laps in the artist alley for me.” you tell him teasingly.    

You can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Fine, but you owe me a coffee.”    

“I always do.” you joked before hanging up.    

You rush through putting on your makeup and throwing your clothes on. You gave yourself a quick once over before deciding that you can’t waste any more time. You looked decent enough.   

You rushed down the stairs and came around the corner to see your dad sitting at the kitchen table.    

“You sure you’re okay without me today?” you asked him, leaning down to kiss your dad on the cheek.    

Her dad huffs, “I told you I can handle one day. Magpie, go out. You haven’t been out in months for fun.” He grunted in his deep voice, slurring his words together.    

“I’m just asking daddy!” you snorted a soft laugh. “I want to make sure you don’t need anything before I leave.” you told him.    

Her dad’s been able to move himself in and out of his own wheelchair for the most part, but you’re waiting for the day he can’t.    

You’re waiting for the day your daddy can’t do most things.   

“Don’t worry about me, I’m gonna watch the Brave’s game today and I better see them win.” He mumbled nodding to you.    

You roll your eyes, “Don’t hold your breath on that one. I love you.”   

“Love you too pumpkin.”    

You grab your bag, “Be safe!” He hollers at you.    

“I always am!” you shout back to him before leaving for the bookstore.    

-   

You are checking your watch in a mild panic. You’re not super off on the time you gave Spencer, but you still hate making him wait. You should have just taken the money deposit on Friday, but you were so sleepy you barely could do more than take your dad to his appointment.    

You huffed in frustration, you only had yourself to blame.    

You're finally up to deposit the stores money, and you thank the gods above. Then your, already bad day, goes terrible.   

“Hey!”   

Gun shots. Gun shots go off and you are frozen, your brain going into fight or flight. You turn quickly and see a woman with a short bob holding a gun and the security guard is on the ground, blood pooling beneath his body.    

You feel your stomach fall out of your body and you’re shuffled with the crowd trying to get out. It feels like a blur.   

“I want to see hands in the sky!” a new voice shouts.   

Your hands go up, you see at least three guns and three different ugly face masks swinging their guns around. You feel like your ears are ringing while you’re ushered into a corner with the other patrons.    

Your body is shaking from fear. Who the hell robs a bank on a Saturday afternoon?    

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are the Face Cards, maybe you’ve heard of us.” The woman’s voice rings through again.   

You stand next to a couple who start speaking lowly in a foreign language, you think it’s German. You know that they’re trying to plan something together.    

The woman with her face mask turns around pointing her gun at the couple quickly walking toward them, speaking in their language. You have no idea what she says but you know it’s a threat.    

“Get your faces on the floor already. I see eyes, you see bullets. Get it?” the woman shouts at them.    

You slide down with everyone, fear eating away at you. You just hope the police are either quick or the robbers are.    

“Get down on the ground!” one of the males screams.   

You feel like a rock is in your throat. You just keep your head down, trying to keep yourself together. You aren’t focusing on what they’re saying. You know he’s demanding money but you’re just trying to focus on living.   

You hear them shuffling, shouting, and then they're gone. Just as soon as you feel like you can breathe again, there’s more gunshots and the robbers come running back inside.   

You are yanked up by your arm, forced to your feet. Your eyes meet the hollow black abyss of the woman’s mask as she holds the gun to your stomach. You can’t breathe, all you can think about is how you can’t leave your dad alone.    

“Make a wall, stand near the doors and windows.” she demanded, shoving you toward the front door.    

You heard the woman walk away, and you released a shaky breath squeezing your eyes shut.    

This is not how you wanted today to go. You were supposed to be at a convention with Spencer. Dressed as Doctor Who characters, eating bland food, and buying something silly from the artist alley. You’d come home, make dinner, and watch a movie with your dad.    

Now you don’t know if you’ll see your dad or Spencer again. God, you can’t think, what if you don’t see your dad again? Who’s going to take care of him? Your sister won’t. Your mind starts to spiral and you’re panicking, your breathing becomes shallow.    

You're brought back by the woman who’s next to you grabbing your hand and holding it tight. It grounds you to the present. You can hear the conversation happening with the squabbling face masked robbers.   

“I can’t find anything. No doors, no grates, nothing.” The woman informed the man.   

“Yo! Lynne! What’s another way outta here?” He shouts disgruntled to the woman who was working behind the counter.   

“Just the main entrance and the side door. It’s for security.” She responds timidly.   

“I know that. You think I’m stupid?” He shouted at her with an exhausted sigh.   

“What went wrong? We were on count.” The woman growls out in frustration.   

“I need a doctor. Is anyone a doctor?!” The man is clearly ignoring her and trying to save the other man that’s with them.   

You don’t hear much else, you start to tune out all the noise into a hum that almost feels like tv static against your skin. It makes you itch, but you can’t be bothered to try to move.   

There’s a murmur of conversation from the group next to you but it just makes white noise in your ears. You're just numb and want desperately to be home or at the coffee shop with Spencer. Anywhere else.   

A phone ringing is the only thing that vaguely pulls you out of it enough to pay attention again.   

One of the robbers is on the phone, the woman keeps circling murmuring her own commentary.   

“He’s trying to negotiate.” the man’s gruff voice cuts through.   

“We’re not playing games!” The woman sneers back.   

You feel the woman’s eyes scanning, heels clicking on the floor. You can feel your heart in your throat as it beats aggressively.   

There’s sudden movement and near you the woman pulls a small girl. She screams for her dad who’s with her and he spins around begging for his daughter.   

“Either we get what we want, or everyone in this room dies.”   

The father’s voice is shaking as he begs. “Take me instead, please. Take me.”   

“It’s okay baby.”   

Then the loud noise of gun being shot makes you flinch as you see the man falling backwards and lands on the ground in front of you. His daughter screaming for him and trying to grab him.   

You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing too easily you could be shot too.   

“You better send in some help or more people are gonna die.” The man tells the police calmly on the phone.   

You feel a shaky breath leave your body.   

They keep going back and forth and you hear the phone again.   

It feels like an out of body experience. You can’t think, barely can feel yourself breathing. If it wasn’t for the occasional heel clicking or unfortunate gun shot, you’d think it was a nightmare.   

The front door opens, and a man walks through a metal detector, he looks like medical personnel. The woman tries to pat him down, but the other robber is in the floor with a dying man screaming for help.   

The room in dead silent as you hear the man work, trying to save the robber on the ground.   

The room is starting to smell like blood and what you can only assume is the stench of death. You hate the iron that’s infiltrating your nostrils, and you’ve never thought of yourself to be queasy with gore, but this is real. Not a horror movie.   

There’s at least two dead men in front of you on the floor, a small girl sobbing into a strange woman, and soon to be another body.   

Another gunshot.   

You still flinch. The medics body now is dragged forward into the pile of dead men. Alongside the other robber. Four. Four dead men.   

You want to hurl. You are not built for this, that’s why you run a bookstore and cafe.   

“Everyone move forward!” the woman demands with a shout.   

You vaguely hear the phone ring again and you wonder when this will be over. Will they shoot all of them? Will they kill another person, five more? When does it end and what can the police even do?   

You’re starting to think this bank will be the last four walls you ever see. You have to blink back the tears and not let that thought overwhelm you.   

The man and woman are squabbling again. Turning on each other? You can’t really tell.   

“I wanna talk to the cop who shot my brother.”   

Well, there goes that tactic. No betrayals here... just possibly another dead officer.   

The man gets back on the phone and the back and forth goes on, he keeps demanding the officer, even offering to let hostages go. That feels far too good to be true though.   

One of the men near you gets dragged back, pulled over to the phone.   

“Come on bud, let’s go!”   

“Pick up the phone.” the robber demands.   

“Why?” the man’s shaking voice asks.   

“Pick up the phone!” he shouts, like he’s desperate.   

“Hello?” the man is clearly scared, voice shaking and small.   

“Tell him your name.”   

“It’s...” He swallows, “It’s Shawn Harper.”   

There’s another gun shot, and you wish you didn’t know what a body hitting the floor sounded like.   

And that makes five innocent bodies, and one dead robber.   

“Ugh, you just killed Shawn Harper. Not me, you.” the man hisses through the phone.   

You’re going to hurl, what a sick thing to say.   

“I’m going to shoot another hostage every sixty seconds until you send in the cop.”   

You freeze. 

You try to close your eyes, and you’ve never been a very religious person... which is not common for someone from Georgia, but you find yourself begging to some god, or whoever, that you can make it out. You have to make it out.   

“Who’s next huh?”   

He grabs a woman and drags her back. Telling her to pick up the phone. Your body trembled as you tried desperately to block out the gunshot you knew you would hear.   

“Pick it up, come on. Pick it up.” he goads the woman, her sobs broken between her shaking breathes.   

“What’s your name?” he pressures.   

“No,” she gasps, “Please...” her voice broken.   

“Tell him your name!” he shouts at the woman.   

“Annie...” she gasps, swallowing a sob, “It’s Annie.”   

“Annie, you got about 30 seconds, I hope Agent Rossi doesn’t make me shoot you too.” he tells her, with fake sympathy in his voice.   

The man next to you decides that now is the time to chat. He turned to face the woman with children, he whispered something to her, and you can’t believe this man has lost his mind.   

“Hey! You! Come over here.” The robber yells at him, his gun pointing much too close to you for your liking.   

“Just let the women and children go. They don’t need to see this.” The man tried to negotiate with the robber.   

You almost scoffed, what did this guy think he was doing?   

“Pretty soon they’re gonna be doing a lot more than seeing.” The man hisses out, “Annie, you just got yourself a reprieve, get in line over there.”   

The robber grabs the man shoving him towards the phone and you sigh.   

“My name is Matthew Downs.” he speaks into the phone.   

Suddenly an officer walks through the door, his hands up in surrender.   

“Let those people go.” his accent is much thicker than yours, southern but he’s not from Georgia.   

“Alright, you, you, you, you-” he pushes the woman and two children next to you. “The kids, get out.”   

He sounds like a man who’s finally found release, like he’s getting what he’s always wanted.   

You watch the officer talk to the robbers, and you see him fall, two shots to his chest.   

You released a shaky gasp. The man, Matthew? Who was at the phone rushes over and grabs onto you. He directs you and forces you to put her hands on the officer.   

“Keep pressure on it.”   

You nod and follow his instruction easily.   

Matthew grabs the medical bag and starts instructing you on what to do. You're on the floor, holding a cloth and putting pressure heavily on the cop in front of you. He instructs the pressure is the most important and that’s what she does.   

She’s trying to breathe, steady her hands to be helpful. The officer on the ground keeps trying to talk and you are so close to panicking that you’re about to yell at this poor man bleeding out on the ground.   

“Are you armed?” Matthew asked him.   

“No.” He murmured, hissing in pain.   

“Damn... I think we might have something of a chance here.” your eyebrows were raised in surprise at his words.   

“What?” the cop looks just as confused.   

“The girls gone and the guys off his head. He doesn’t know who to trust. We can work them against each other.” Matthew whispered to both of them.   

“Wait are you a cop?” he tries to ask, still struggling.   

“A former marine.” Matthew grunts out.   

The officer is moving too much, and his blood is all over your hands. You can’t get the metallic smell out of your nose and you’re trying to keep it together.   

“You gotta listen to me, I need you to get a message to my girlfriend.” he tried to ask.   

“All right, you can tell her yourself when you get out of here.” Matthew reassures him.   

You huff and looks at the officer with determination, “I need you to not think in only death, okay? Everything looks a little bleak right now and I really need some kind of hope to hold on to. There are already five dead bodies, don’t make it six.” you hiss out at him.   

“Only I’m not getting outta here... you need someone to cause a distraction.” he murmured trying to sit up.   

“What are you doing?!” you try to push him back down but he’s surprisingly resilient for someone who was just shot.   

“Her name is Jennifer, and she’s a federal agent. You tell her I’m sorry.” the cop tells Matthew.   

The two continue to go back and forth and you can’t bother to get yourself off the ground. You're watching this officer like he’s gone mad.   

He walks on shaky legs, hobbling over to the robber. He goads him, pushing the man. Turning his trust around on its head.   

Then the robbers walking off with him to the back, and they’ve left an opening for them to escape.   

Matthew bends down to help you off the ground and shoves you out the door, and suddenly you can breathe again. Officers swarm them and escort them off to the safety of a police barricade.   

You look around, taking in the massive amounts of vans, officers, the FBI agents, and swat team.   

You're watching them move in, trying to do their jobs. Arrest the bad guys... but you watch with wide eyes the massive explosion that destroys the inside of the bank. Shooting debris out onto the ground. It really hits you, like a massive punch to your gut, how lucky you are to even be alive.   

You’re with the rest of the survivors, huddled near one of the police cruisers, all of them waiting for medics to check them and for other cops to take statements. It’s all just a blur. Everything is happening too fast and too slowly all at once. You don’t even know what the time is or how long you’ve been trapped in that bank.   

Then through the fog of your head you see something so familiar you have to do a double take to believe it.    

Spencer.   

Your Spencer, coming out of a federal vehicle in a bullet proof vest reading FBI. You'll blame the adrenaline later, but your feet start walking away from the safety of your spot and it’s like tunnel vision. you're running, and while you hear people yelling, you can’t stop. Your only goal is Spencer, he was a lifeline in this moment. A grounding figure in your shock.   

“Spencer?” your feet pound on the pavement, the loud commotion around you fading into a buzzing sound behind you. “Spencer!” you shout at him.    

With laser focus he finds you, his face filled with relief but even more worry.   

Spencer had seen you on the cameras, and it took every fiber of his being to not immediately want to drive down to barge in for you. He knew, logically, he was better helping out Garcia and looking over the maps. Every time Spencer heard a gunshot; it was a jolt of panic as his eyes scanned the cameras making sure it wasn’t you. You couldn’t die. Spencer doesn’t think he could recover from that. You’re bright and kind and the last person who deserved to be in this kind of hostage situation.    

Every second felt like an hour and his brain was whirling a million different scenarios.    

“Y/N,” he meets you halfway, holding your arms and walking you back to safety.    

“You can’t be here, this isn’t safe.” He tells you sternly, his brow furrowed in a deep line. It’s an expression you've never seen, so serious. His eyes flashed over your body trying to check if you were okay. He freezes when he sees the blood caked on your hands. He gently grabbed your hands, and it made you look down.   

“It’s not mine.” you murmured quietly.   

Spencer sighed in relief and looked back at you with more determination.   

“Just stay with the officers, okay? They will keep you safe. I promise I’ll explain but I have to do my job.” He tells you; he’s navigated you back to where you started, and he hands you off to a medic.   

You want to argue with him, but his tone leaves no room for it and your energy is fading.    

“Make sure she’s looked at.” He told the medic in a fiercely intense tone.   

“Stay with them. I will explain...later.” he said giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he turns to leave.    

You have no energy left to try to argue. You’re just filled with exhaustion as the medic checks your vitals. You vaguely hear him talking to you, but you can’t pay attention. Your eyes never left Spencer as you follow him. He works his way around like it's second nature.   

For a moment, you realized there’s a whole part of his life that you had no idea about... he’d never told you.   

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur, you don’t touch your phone until it’s well into the late evening. Seeing missed calls from so many people. You can only find it in yourself to call your dad.    

“Magpie? Magpie, please tell me you’re okay.” Your dad’s voice rings through, warbled like he’s about to cry. Big Joe isn’t a crier, he just never has been. A pang of guilt shoots through you because you feel guilty for not calling sooner.    

“I’m, I’m safe daddy, I’m at the station.” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the smoke and underuse.    

“Oh, thank god.” The sigh of relief speaks more than his words do.   

“I’ll be home tonight, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave...”    

“Come home as soon as you can sweetie.”   

“I love you daddy.” your voice shakes, and it’s watery, almost on the verge of tears.   

“I love you too. Come home safe, and I mean it.” His voice is firm, but filled with warmth and it has you cracking her foundation. Tears escaped your eyes.    

She wipes them away furiously, trying to save her waterworks for when she’s alone tonight and processing what the hell even happened today.   

By the time you hang up you see a small group entering the police station, and there's a familiar mop of brown hair.    

Spencer beelines towards you. You stand to meet him, and you’re enveloped in a tight hug and whispers you can’t hear against your neck.   

“You’re safe, you’re safe.” You hear him chanting and from how he’s holding you, you realize he’s saying it for his benefit.   

The two stand in silence, holding onto each other. You really couldn’t care about the onlookers. You almost died over a stupid bank robbery; you were going to hug your best friend.   

“So, is every day this scary for you?” you asked quietly.   

“Kind of part of the job.” he chuckled moving back to look you over. His sharp eyes trying to see if there was something wrong, if you were injured.    

“So, FBI?” you tilt your head with a raised brow. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a fed.” you teased, trying to ease the tension.   

“Behavioral Analysis Unit, specifically.” He adds.   

Your eyebrows raise, “Jesus, I need a sedative...” you murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?”   

Spencer just shrugged, “I just needed somewhere that was for me, yeah know? Keep the work out of the personal?”    

You nodded, “Yeah well, I’d would have liked to know that when my best friends out of town, it could be life threatening.” you said with a small fake punch to his arm.    

“You worry enough about too much. Don’t worry about me.” he told you firmly.    

“That’s easier said than done.” you murmured with a frown.    

“Come on, let me take you home. I’m sure Big Joe’s worried sick.” Spencer said moving to grab your hand and lead you out.    

You just nod and follow behind him.   

-   

“Spencer, are you sure this is okay? I mean I don’t know anyone.” You asked trying to straighten out your dress.    

Spencer was behind the driver's seat in a tuxedo of his own and he was looking at your nervous gestures. He reaches over to hold your hands and squeezes.    

“I know it’s okay. Besides, you might as well meet everyone. I was going to introduce you to Garcia at the convention anyway.” He shrugs casually.     

“I promise they don’t bite; besides, you definitely know Will.” he said with a faint smirk.   

“Spencer Reid that does not count! I was applying pressure to make sure the man didn’t bleed out all over the floor of that bank!” you huff in irritation.    

“I promise you’ll get along, and if I don’t Morgan’s going to start thinking I’m taking out call girls after work.” He frowns in mild annoyance.   

“Wow, glad to know you think I'm a step up from call girl.” you said jokingly, reaching over to pat his arm. “Great pep talk Spence.”   

You move to get out of the car your giggles following. Spencer fumbles to escape the car.    

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he tried to explain.    

You put your hand up, “It’s fine, come on my nerves are definitely gone now.”   

Spencer just smiled at you, watching you smooth out your starry sky dress. The deep blue complimenting her as silver stars dangle from your ears.    

“I’ll stop while I’m ahead.” he said.    

“Good call.”   

Spencer walks you up to Rossi’s house, well, mansion. Your eyes widened a bit before turning to him.    

“Bestselling author... for multiple books.” he confirmed.    

He takes you out to the back to greet everyone’s who's there. You're distracted by the large space and beautiful displays. The flower petals on the ground, the beautiful tables, not to mention an open bar. Spencer gently guides you over to his team Hotch, Garcia, and Morgan who are gathered in a small circle.   

Before Spencer can introduce you Morgan’s already looking you up and down.   

“So, you're the little friend Reid wouldn’t tell us about?” He points at you before returning his hand to his pocket. Morgan’s charming and mischievous smile on his face.   

There’s a gasp, and Garcia gives a small, excited jump, “The bookstore girl!” She almost shouts at you. “You’re gorgeous!” She moved to hold your hands and made you do a small spin to look at your dress. “So sparkly, I like!”   

Morgan leaned over to Reid, “She might have already started drinking...”   

“Can’t believe you’d keep us a secret Reid.” Hotch teased, his arm resting around Beth’s waist pressing her closer to his side.   

“You’re all vultures, every single one. No privacy with you guys.” Spencer told them shaking his head.   

“You’re lucky you lasted this long, if I had known just a little more, I could have looked into her.”   

“That's... exactly what I’m talking about Garcia...” Spencer sighs heavily.   

“I’m Y/N, it’s really nice to meet you guys.” You introduce yourself with a smile and a small laugh.   

“So, a bookstore?” Morgan raised his brow in question.   

“Yeah! I co-own the Midnight Owl. It’s a bookstore and cafe that is open late nights to offer a space for book loving insomniacs like myself.” you said cheerfully.   

“That explains how Reid met you.” Rossi’s voice drifts in as he comes up to meet Spencer’s new friend.   

He extends his hand out to shake yours. “David Rossi, nice to meet you.”     

You give him a warm smile, “Thank you for hosting, your home is beautiful.”   

You leave Spencer for a while going to walk off with Penelope as the blonde leads you to the open bar.   

“How long have you been friends with Reid?” she asked.   

You take a sip from your drink and think, “Three years, going on four.”   

Penelope’s brows go up, “Oh he’s been keeping you a verrrrrry big secret.”   

You roll your eyes, “Well he regretted to inform me his day job was being an FBI agent.”   

“Does it matter?” The blonde asked tilting her head.   

You could feel Penelope’s piercing protective gaze on you. You shake your head. “No obviously not. He’s my best friend. I just... will probably worry ten times more about him now.” you admit.   

“They’re the best team I know.” Penelope tells you softly.   

“Won’t stop me from worrying, but thanks for trying.” you give a half smile before taking another sip.   

“I worry too, constantly.” She stage whispers to you.  

You bubble into laughter and the two make their way back over to the small group.   

Other groups of people were trickling into the back yard filling up space and chattering.   

Spencer’s nowhere to be found with his coworkers and you try to search for him, finally finding him crouched next to a small blonde child. You excuse yourself and make your way over.   

You tilt your head as you watch Spencer roll a ring between his fingers in front of the child and make the ring disappear and reappear before the boy's eyes. 

“Go on Henry,” he ruffles the blonde’s hair, “Time to go be the ring bearer. It’s a very important job.” Spencer ushers Henry off.   

“You just keep surprising me.” you whispered walking over to him.   

Spencer shrugs, “There’s a lot to find out.” he replied.   

“Have you always been this good with kids?” you asked.   

Spencer smiled, “I love them.” The way that he says it, you can see how much he wants that. To be a dad. To be in love.   

“I think you’ll make a great dad one day, if that’s anything to go by.” you tell him.   

Spencer just brushed the comment off and led you over to the altar.   

“Who knows, maybe one day.”   

[plaguedocboi]

I don’t really care about Disney Princess movies because y’know, I’m almost 25, but it does make me sad that they just don’t seem to do villains anymore. Like, at all. The last good disney Princess villain was from like 2009. It makes me sad because as a young queer goth kid I loved the villains, i literally only watched the movies to see the villains. Disney villains used to slap and then they just. Stoped. Who are the weird little emo kids supposed to look up to now? The dude from Frozen who was just sort of an asshole? The lava monster from Moana who turned out to be the good guy?

Why did fun villains go out of style anyway? I would argue that some of the older bad guys are more iconic than the protagonists. Does anyone remember the plot of Sleeping Beauty or do you just remember Maleficent slaying absolute cunt? Because that’s all I remember. I had a plush Maleficent dragon. Where are the dragons now

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 20

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: you go back to school early to attend a new year’s eve party.

word count: 3.5k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: the last chapter!!! screaming crying throwing up fr. i’ll definitely post an epilogue though, and maybe some other short drabbles because i’m gonna miss them :// i also wanna thank everyone who reads this fic, i appreciate it so much!!! anyway, enjoy<3

warnings: a hint of smut, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

Two long weeks later, it’s finally time for you and Evan to go back to school. You continued to sneak into Evan’s room each night, and had managed not to get caught each time his hands started to wander, innocent touches becoming something entirely different.

While you did tease him about keeping his hands to himself the first night, you were a little surprised when his hands traveled down your soft tummy and traced the waistband of your panties. You almost stopped him; the fear of getting caught clear in your mind, but your words were cut short when his hand dipped under the fabric and ghosted over your clit. His lips were on yours before you could make a sound, and when he finally pushed his cock into your dripping cunt, his lips were replaced with his hand as he whispered how good you were being into your ear.

This morning is no different. You wake up early; earlier than either of your parents, Evan’s bare chest against your back warming you up immensely.

“Are you sad to be leaving?” he whispers, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck. You hum softly, shrugging as you think about it. You turn in his grip before you answer, unable to fight back a smile as Evan’s face studies yours with a lovesick expression.

“I love my parents, but I think I get along with them better when we’re apart. Spending some time with them is nice, but I’m glad I’m not living here all the time.” you tell him in the same hushed tone. He nods, seeming to understand where you’re coming from. When he’s at school, sometimes his parents call to catch up, and he can almost pretend that he’s close with his parents when that happens.

“I’m glad. Because now we can go to the New Year’s party at Delta Phi.” he says in a teasing tone. You roll your eyes, laughing softly. He practically begged you to leave a couple of days early so you’d be back for the party once he found out that the theme of the party was to celebrate the university’s sports teams. “Now I can see you in my jersey again. Like old times.” is how he put it when he asked, and you couldn’t say no.

It had been a while since you were able to wear his jersey, and the last time you had, he ended up in the hospital, so a part of you was eager to get some better memories of wearing it.

“You really do like to party, don’t you?” you tease, laughing as he scoffs.

“Come on, they’re fun. You can’t tell me you didn’t like the parties I brought you to, other than the first one.” he says, his jaw clenching when he speaks about the first party you went to a party with him. He still has to see Jared at practice, but for the most part, Jared tries to steer clear of him, and he’s thankful. As much as he wants to fucking kill him for what he did, he knows that wouldn’t be the best idea.

“Alright, they’re not as bad as I thought they’d be. But that doesn’t mean I’d pick going to a party over, like, a movie night. But I like when you get all protective.” you tease, leaning in to kiss him softly. You can feel his fist clenching at your side, where he was holding your hip, and you know what he’s thinking about. You’ve stuck close to Evan at every party since then, and he always has to have a hand on you. Either an arm around your shoulder, or his hand in yours, or on the small of your back. He won’t let you leave his sight.

“Gotta protect my girl. Always.” he tells you earnestly, his hand unclenching as he lets out a breath. He knows he’s more upset about the situation than you are, even though it happened to you, but he can’t help it. He still feels a little guilty for even losing you in the first place.

“And you always do. From people and from the dark.” you tease, and he chuckles. Then in an instant, he moves to pin you to the bed, his body positioning itself between your legs, making you squeal softly in surprise as you giggle. He shushes you softly, lowering his face to the crook of your neck as his hands pin your wrists to the bed beside your head.

“Gotta be quiet, baby. I’ve gotten through two weeks without your dad hating my guts. Can’t start now.” he murmurs against your neck before beginning to trail kisses across your skin. You bite your lip as you tilt your head back, reveling in the feeling of his lips on you. Truth be told, your mom has caught you a couple of times in his room, not that either of you have been awake to notice. She stands near the door with a smile on her face each time, seeing you cuddled up together. She thinks it’s sweet, and she’d never tell your dad, anyway. This is not one of those mornings, evidently.

“We can’t have that.” you whisper, meeting his gaze as he pulls away from your neck. He smirks, moving your wrists up above your head and grabbing them with one hand, then his other moves down to push your shirt up over your plush tummy and chest.

Once your shirt is bunched up above your tits, his eyes trail down your body as he licks his lips. He’s so glad you only ever sleep with an oversized shirt and panties, like you’re just begging him to take care of you.

He leans down and gives you a short, but passionate, kiss, then moves down to your neck again. You bite your lip as his kisses move further down your neck, and he moves his face away for just long enough to move below your shirt, then begins to kiss down the valley of your breasts to your round tummy. He hums softly as he presses featherlight kisses to the skin littered with stretch marks, nipping and sucking softly as he goes.

He loves marking your tummy; he loves seeing the marks that are for his eyes only, and he likes the way it makes you squirm, but he also loves it seems to make you feel more confident. He loves your soft belly, and he’ll keep leaving marks across it until you love it completely, too.

His hands move down to your hips, grabbing and harshly pulling your panties down your legs with a low grunt, now leaning back on his knees to look at all of you.

“God, I love you.” he whispers once you’re left in nothing but your bunched up shirt, his fingers moving up your inner thighs.

You inhale a shaky breath as he leans down until his face is directly in front of your core. He smirks as he keeps eye contact with you, and the last thing he says before his tongue makes contact with your slick folds is “My gorgeous girl. I’m gonna ruin you.”

You get back to your apartment at around 6, which is still much earlier than when you have to go to the party, but after waking up early and driving all day, you feel like you need a nap before you get ready. Buck dropped you off, and after insisting on carrying your bags up for you, he gave you a sweet kiss and told you he’d be back around 10:00 before he went back to his place.

Your eyelids flutter open an hour or so later, and since you showered this morning, and you know you’ll probably get some form of alcohol spilled on you tonight, you don’t bother showering. Since you now have some time before Evan picks you up, you drag yourself out of bed and into the living room, flopping down onto the couch your roommate isn’t currently sprawled out on.

“How was your break?” she asks innocently, although her expression is anything but. She knows you brought Evan to meet your parents, and she has been patiently waiting since you left for any little detail of your visit. You didn’t want to tell her over text, so you kept telling her you’d update her when you got back. And since she got back four days before you did, she had begged you to tell her, claiming she was too bored and lonely all alone to wait.

“Well, my dad doesn’t hate him.” you tell her with a smile. She laughs, rolling onto her side to face you with a smirk.

“Tell me everything right now.” she urges, and you roll your eyes. She watches you intently as you begin to tell her, leaving out the parts about you sneaking into his bed every night, for the most part.

Just like promised, Evan buzzes your apartment intercom at 10pm, and your roommate lets him in, as you’re still finishing up your makeup. It’s nothing crazy, just some mascara and lip gloss, but you waited a little too long before you started to get ready; instead spending your time catching up with your roommate.

He walks into the bathroom, eyes trailing down your figure as you bend over the counter to touch up your lip gloss. You’re wearing your favourite pair of jeans and a white long sleeve shirt, knowing you’ll get cold in just Evan’s jersey on the walk to and from the party. You jump slightly in surprise as Evan lets out a low whistle, turning to see him leaning in the doorway. He’s wearing a white hoodie under his own jersey, and you can’t help your eyes traveling down to his broad chest. God, how did you get so lucky?

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he asks in a teasing tone, closing the distance between you and dropping your jersey onto the counter before he pulls your hips against his. He meets your lips in a kiss, and you whine softly as you pull back, frowning.

“I just put on lip gloss.” you say, fighting back a smile as you look up at his lips, now shiny and glittery. You reach up and wipe it off with your thumb, and he chuckles softly once you pull your hand away.

“And you can put on some more. I wanna kiss you.” he tells you sternly, then leans in for another kiss.

“Your teammates are gonna make fun of you if you keep doing that. You’re gonna walk into the party with lip gloss all over your face.” you tease once you lean back again, but letting him kiss you for longer this time. You wipe off the lip gloss again, then push him away by putting your hands on his chest. He rolls his eyes, but lets you push him back, then watches you intently as you turn back to the mirror and fix your makeup.

Once you’re finished, you grab the jersey off the counter and throw it on, tucking one side into your jeans so it doesn’t look so awkwardly long.

“You ready, princess?” he asks once you turn to face him. You smile, nodding as you grab his hand and maneuver around him to lead him out of the bathroom. You meet your roommate near the door, ready to walk over with both of them. She’s going to the party anyway, and you’d rather her walk with you and Evan than walk over alone, even if she’s meeting some of her other friends there.

It’s a quick walk over, as your roommate is already a little drunk, and cannot seem to keep her mouth shut. You walk hand in hand with Evan as she walks in front of you, barely even paying attention as she rants on and on about the party.

“Is she gonna be okay once we get there? I kinda don’t want to leave her alone.” Evan whispers to you as she keeps talking. You look up at him, your heart swelling in your chest. You know he’s protective of you, but him being protective of your friend as well makes your heartbeat quicken.

“She’s meeting a few friends there; she should be fine. One of them is staying sober too, so she can keep an eye on her.” you tell him, and he nods slowly. Although this calms him, he still feels a little nervous about it.

“And, her friend’s boyfriend is on the lacrosse team. He said he’d keep an eye on them.” you tell him, and he nods, letting out a breath. That makes him feel a lot better.

“Yeah! He’s gonna set me up with a hot lacrosse player! It’s a sports party, and I don’t have a jersey. Gotta get one somewhere.” your roommate tells you as she turns her head to look over her shoulder at you two. You both let out laughs as she smirks and raises her brows a few times.

“I have faith in you.” Evan responds, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. You watch as she turns on her heel and walks up to him, forcing you both to stop in your tracks. She raises a hand and puts it on his shoulder, looking up at him with a serious expression.

“You don’t know how much that means to me.” she says, swaying gently side to side. Evan furrows his brows as he lets out a confused laugh while you laugh loudly. Her head snaps to you as you laugh, then takes her hand off of Evan’s shoulder and puts it on yours.

“You’re so lucky you already have a jersey. I love you guys.” she tells you, then throws herself at you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. You stumble back, shaking your head as you wrap your arms around her torso, hugging her back.

“Alright, let’s go get you that jersey.” Evan says in a teasing tone, making eye contact with you over your roommate’s shoulder. He winks at you as she finally pulls away, mumbling a quiet “good idea” as she turns and starts walking towards the party again.

The party is in full swing once you drop your roommate off with her friends and Evan says hi to a bunch of his teammates throughout the party. You’re staying close to Evan, getting jostled around as people sway to the music and shove their way through the crowd around you. He keeps his arm firmly wrapped around your shoulder, only letting you go when he grabs both of you a beer. You aren’t a huge fan of the taste, but you take it with a smile, figuring that you’d rather be a little buzzed and deal with the taste than have to endure the lights and noise around you sober.

Just like clockwork, Evan starts to get more handsy when he’s a few drinks in, keeping his front pressed against your back as he holds you close to him. His arms are firmly wrapped around your waist, and his chin is resting on your shoulder as he sways you back and forth with the music.

“Have I told you how good you look in my jersey?” he says in your ear, practically having to yell in order for you to hear him over the music. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. You’ve had a few drinks, but you’re nowhere near drunk, not as drunk as him, and his clinginess makes your face heat up.

“Yeah, a couple times.” you respond in a teasing tone, turning in his grip to angle your face towards his. He grins, then leans down and gives you a sloppy kiss on your neck, mumbling a “good” as he does. You tilt your head to the side as he kisses you, grinning as you shake your head.

You continue to dance with him until it’s almost midnight, and you only stop when the party around you starts to feel even more chaotic, if at all possible. You turn in Evan’s grip, wrapping your arms around his neck once you’re face to face with him.

“Hi, baby.” he says over the music, and you giggle softly.

“Hi, my love. It’s almost midnight.” you reply, tilting your head to the side as he continues to sway you both back and forth.

“Yeah? What’s that thing people usually do at midnight, again?” he asks in a slightly teasing tone, then gives you a wink. You roll your eyes, shaking your head.

“I’m not sure, why?” you tease back, laughing more when he scoffs.

“I’m gonna kiss you so hard.” he says with a cocky tone, smirking. You rest your forehead on his chest as you laugh, closing your eyes. He’s such a dork when he gets like this, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Whatever you say, baby.” you tell him once you look up at him again, a smile spreading across your face. He’s about to reply when everyone begins to countdown, and he grins, moving one hand up to your jaw, tilting your head up further.

“I love you.” he whispers right as the clock strikes midnight, and then he meets your lips in a searing kiss. You smile against his lips, hands gripping the front of his jersey as you rise onto your toes, momentarily forgetting that you’re in a room full of people, not that anyone notices, or cares.

You keep one arm around his torso as you both walk up the walkway to his house, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he leans against you. You fish his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door, which proves difficult as Buck leans against you from behind, hands and lips attached to you, and finally get him to his room. You push him back onto the bed, and he falls back with a low grunt, then smirks as he sits up on his elbows.

“I like where this is going.” he says, licking his lips as he eyes your soft figure. You roll your eyes, then walk over to the edge of the bed, urging him to sit up. You pull his jersey and hoodie over his head in one go, and he raises his arms to help you as you do. You then grab his hands and pull him to stand in front of you, telling him to take off his pants so he can change into sweats to go to bed.

“What are you doing to me? I am not that kind of girl.” he tells you sternly, but his hands move to make quick work of the button and zipper of his jeans. You giggle, watching him pull his pants down and then lay down to let you pull them off of him completely.

“No? Not even for me?” you ask in a sweet voice, a smirk on your face. He shrugs, pursing his lips as he studies your face, then after a moment, a smile erupts on his face.

“Alright. Maybe for you.” he murmurs. You hum softly, then grab a pair of his sweatpants from his closet and toss them at him. He puts them on haphazardly, then stands up and reaches for the hem of the jersey across your chest. “Your turn.” he mumbles as he begins to pull your jersey and your long sleeve shirt up and over your head.

Once your shirts are off, his hands move to your jeans, tugging them down. He watches as you step out of them, and then he grabs your jersey off the bed and puts it back on over your head, humming softly as it falls down your body.

“Perfect.” he murmurs, then cups your cheeks with his hands and kisses you sloppily. You kiss him back, hands resting on his chest as you part your lips, and he eagerily pushes his tongue into your mouth. Once his hands start to wander, grabbing your ass and pushing you against him, you break the kiss, looking up at his puffy lips and blown pupils.

You push him away, muttering a soft “lets go to bed.” He exhales a loud sigh, but obliges, laying down on his back on the bed, and holding his hand out for you to take. You grab it and let him pull you down onto him, resting your cheek against his chest. Once you’re comfortably laying on him, and your leg is thrown over his legs, he sighs in contentment.

“I think I’m gonna keep you forever.” he drawls, his eyelids beginning to grow heavy as he feels his body sinking into the bed and his sheets enveloping him in warmth. You smile, humming softly.

“You better.” you whisper, and he squeezes your thigh softly in response. You can hear his breathing becoming more steady, and you can tell he’s almost asleep, but you speak once more before he falls asleep.

“I love you.” you whisper.

“You know I love you, princess.” he mumbles before sleep finally overcomes him.

next chapter

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[andy-wm]

I’ve just been listening to a podcast about the fabric of reality, and came on here for a bit of downtime. And lo and behold, you’re talking about reality and time passing, and that’s exactly it.

No matter what we think, no matter what we say, or theorise or claim, we don’t alter the truth, and that stands for everything that doesn’t pertain to us.l and our own lives.

I can think the earth is flat till the cows come home (I don’t, obviously) but that doesn’t alter reality. 

Same goes for Jimin and JKs relationship. I’ve seen people claim wild theories, bending and stretching to reach conclusions far outweighing a k drama or blockbuster movie, whereas I personally, think mundanely and simply, that they are together. 

Whose right? We don’t know. 

That’s the truth. We don’t know. 

We may never know, we may find out one day?. 

I’m saying this with a smile on my face because that’s the beauty of life right, as long as we are not harming others, or coming into others spaces and shouting. As long as we aren’t being disrespectful to others, and to Jikooks bond. 

I will say this though, an actual truth people seem to forget or quickly dismiss across the fandom as a whole, is that those men chose to enlist together and whatever we may think of their relationship that is what happened and we should do well to remember that. 

Hey Anon, that's what i call serendipity.

And I love this ask, thank you!

I absolutely agree, what we know - or think we know - has no impact on what truly is.

Even when we believe we know all there is to know, new discoveries and new understanding mean - hopefully - we're constantly learning and reassessing.

When it comes to Jikook, Occam's razor is my go-to: the simplest explanation is, in fact, usually the best. We don't need convoluted plots and schemes and conspiracy theories. There's enough information staring us in the face.

Sometimes we need to untangle that information - I'm not saying we should accept everything on face value - and we do have to look out for new information so we can adjust our understanding.

But that is the case with everything on earth. There is no static knowledge.

These things add layers of richness and complexity but they don't change the basic premise of our underatanding.

That understanding, for me, is that these two humans love each other.

As you say, there ARE things we definitely know, like their companion enlistment.

Like the fact that Jimin chose to have JK with him - next to him - when he talked about his depression on Beyond The Star.

We know Jimin flew 28 hours so he could spend 3 days with JK in NY and Connecticut.

We know that JK was ready to crack Yoongi on the head with a frypan when he though Jimin might have been hurt (by a 5g shuttlecock).

We know that JK never harms Jimin - in all the games and jokes they play, he never targets Jimin (spraying his butt with a watergun is not targeting him, before anyone gets huffy. That did Jimin no harm at all.)

We know that Jimin worried over how hard JK was working.

We know JK begged Jimin shamelessly in front of millions of people, to do a weverse live together.

We know JK watched and hyped all Jimin's footage when he was promoting FACE.

We know they jumped into the comments of one another's livestreams several times last year.

We know all these things, but imagine what we don't know.

There's so much we have no idea about.

Hours and hours of footage that never reaches our screens. Months of time they spend together or alone or with family or friends. That's as it should be - their their private lives are just that - private.

Yes, I have a lot of fun picking apart the little glimpses we get into their lives because i enjoy their dynamic so much and because I'm naturally curious (okay, yes, I'm nosy 🤣).

I look deeper not because I'm hunting for lies or flaws, but because these two delight me. Sure I speculate, but i don't purport to know what they are to each other or where their boundaries lie. And I'm happy not to know. Some things are none of my business.

Like you, Anon, I accept that i may never know the true nature of their relationship, and I'm quite okay with that.

In the end what does it matter?

Whatever they are to each other, they're happy, and honestly what more is there to life than love and happiness?

💜💛

[heartstringsbloom]

Lightning and Flo headcanons because I think they’d have a really sweet friendship <33

• Lightning gets a job at the V8 cafe after some time in RS

• he noticed how Flo was usually the one managing the cafe and rarely saw other staff

• of course he can tell how capable she is (she’s not just holding the place together, she’s making it thrive) but it doesn’t stop him from applying as a waiter

• he sheepishly tells her that he’d like to help out, despite the lack of a help wanted sign

• she’s caught off guard but is all smiles just as quickly, heart melting at his gentle stuttering and flushed cheeks at simply asking if he could help out

• she tells him he doesn’t need to but humors him, putting him on part time for late mornings to late afternoon when it’s busiest

• Flo doesn’t realize the difference it makes until she actually has the extra set of hands to take orders, run food back and forth, wipe down tables when she’s busy loading dishes into the washer or refilling coffee

• it’s also nice to have someone to talk to after the rush calms down and the cafe is mostly empty, Doc and Sheriff in a corner booth playing cards while Sally goes through the motel’s monthly expenses from where she’s half asleep on Doc’s shoulder (the only one he’d ever let in that position)

• Lightning sits at the counter during this time, sipping a strawberry milkshake despite the late hour, while Flo bags up a breakfast sandwich for Ramone (who can’t go a night without one)

• she and McQueen chat about potential new menu items and how the jukebox hasn’t worked in years, but if they could get it fixed it would just add to the lovely 50s atmosphere. He offers to get someone on that and Flo rolls her eyes, shushing him about throwing anymore money at the town after all he’s already done

• the boy, sweet as pumpkin pie, pouts as if he’ll throw a fit only to sigh dramatically and go back to his drink, mumbling about how he’d do anything for them, for her, and Flo just wants to hug him forever, knowing they’ll have the same conversation again tomorrow night

• as she closes up he hovers behind her, hands in the pockets of his too big red hoodie as he chews his lip, eyes clinging to his feet, and she asks if he wants to come with her to Ramone’s

• he perks up in such a flash Flo gets whiplash

• they walk in comfortable silence, McQueen singing something under his breath and soaking up the midnight lights with eyes so smitten and Flo thinks he looks even younger than he is

• as Ramone works on a commission Flo walks Lightning around the shop, pointing out different things her husband has done over the years and the kid blurts out how pretty she is

• Flo is *really* thrown off but laughs soon enough, absolutely tickled by this awkward little cutie who seems so different off the track

• she jokes that she’s already married and he practically falls apart, an absolute rush of apologies and denial and he just had to say it because she *is* and sometimes he just says things on his mind and—

• Flo pinches his cheek and reassures that she’s kidding, she knows he didn’t mean it that way, and he smiles and she only now notices that his tongue peeks through his teeth when he does

• they sit and chat some more after that. Flo learns that Lightning hasn’t watched many movies growing up and he wants to see every Disney Princess film ever made after watching The Little Mermaid for the first time at Doc’s. She tells him that Cinderella is one of her favorites and they make plans to have a movie night soon

• when he says goodnight and heads back to Doc’s, Ramone wraps his arms around her from behind with a kiss already in her shoulder. They watch him go, a spring in McQueen’s step, and she tells her husband that the kid is sunshine in a basket

• he gets brighter every day

[solarmorrigan]

Hi! Could you possibly do 'You don't have to stay.' With Steddie from the angst writing prompt, please? Thank you in advance 😊

Hi! My apologies again for taking two weeks to get to this, but thank you for sending it! This one was fun to write :D

[No warnings; happier ending this time, I promise]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

Eddie feels like an idiot.

He just – he got so wrapped up in everything. In the way Steve has been keeping him company every evening, in the way they have dinner together and play cards together and watch movies together and fucking fall asleep together (Eddie and Wayne’s new place is bigger than their old one, but it’s not like the government sprung for a house with a goddamn guest room or anything). He just forgot that Steve isn’t really meant to be part of his life.

No, Eddie just has Steve on loan.

He is abruptly reminded of this fact one afternoon when he hits Family Video with the intent to pester Steve (and maybe even rent a movie) and instead stumbles right into the tail end of a conversation.

Maryellen Someone-or-Other from the year below Eddie (he’s never really seen the point in remembering names unless they’re a friend or a foe; he figures his brainspace has better uses than the names of people who don’t give a shit about him one way or the other) is leaning over the counter, making eyes at Steve. She’s practically batting her eyelashes and resting her weight in a way that puts the low-scooped neckline of her shirt prominently on display.

“Are you sure?” Maryellen is asking, bottom lip pouting out in a way that is, in Eddie’s opinion, far too obvious.

“Afraid so,” Steve replies with one of his softer smiles, like he might actually be sorry. “I already have plans tonight.”

And – plans? What plans? Eddie thought Steve would be coming over to his house tonight, like pretty much every night.

But then Steve’s eyes flick up from Maryellen and catch Eddie standing stupidly in front of the doors, and his smile widens a little, becomes something happier, sillier, and – oh. Eddie’s house is the plan. Right.

“Well,” Maryellen sighs, high and put-upon, pulling Steve’s attention back to her, “maybe next time.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve nods. “Yeah, maybe.”

Maryellen glances Steve up and down one more time—and, seriously, obvious much?—before she straightens up and sashays past Eddie and out of the store. She doesn’t even seem to have a video with her. Had she come in just to ask Steve out?

And Steve had turned her down?

It’s not like Eddie is interested in what she’s selling, but he has eyes – Maryellen Whatserface isn’t the sort of date you just turn down. Not when she’s flirting and flashing her cleavage at you over the counter of your workplace. And she especially isn’t the type of date Steve Harrington turns down, certainly not to spend an evening sitting around in Eddie’s room doing a whole lot of nothing.

Of course, that’s not how Eddie sees it – not really. They’re not doing nothing if they’re talking, if they’re sharing stories or thoughts or even just dumb jokes. Not if they’re sitting quietly together because sometimes you can only be that type of quiet with someone who gets you. Not if Eddie is strumming random notes on his guitar and Steve is humming along, almost absently, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

It isn’t nothing to Eddie, but to Steve – well, now that Eddie thinks about it, Steve is probably just putting his life on hold so he can be a good friend to Eddie in the aftermath of all the Upside Down fuckery.

Which is very kind of him, obviously (which is apparently just the sort of person Steve actually is; sure, he complains a whole hell of a lot, but Eddie doubts if there’s a single damn thing Steve won’t do if he thinks he can help someone really in trouble), but Eddie doesn’t need him to do that. He doesn’t need any kind of pity friendship. He doesn’t need Steve to put all his shit on hold just to take care of him, only to end up resenting him because he can’t go anywhere or do anything because he’s too busy being the goddamn babysitter.

Eddie doesn’t need that.

“Hey.” Steve is the one leaning the counter now (and he doesn’t exactly have Maryellen’s assets, but damn if the position doesn’t make his shirt stretch appealingly over his chest, anyway) and making eyes at Eddie, except they’re sort of confused-and-concerned eyes, which makes sense, since Eddie still hasn’t moved out of the damn doorway. “You okay?”

“Just fine,” Eddie says, snapping back into motion. “I’m here to pick a movie for tonight.”

“Y’know, I work at the video store,” Steve says, arching one heavy brow. “I’m here right now, even. You could just let me pick something to bring home.”

Eddie almost twitches at the casual slip of the tongue – home. Like Steve doesn’t have other places to be, a better house to actually go home to.

“I could,” Eddie drawls, “but I have it on good authority—my own, in fact—that your taste in films is not to be trusted.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Just because you can’t appreciate Sly or a good underdog story–”

“Two hours of dudes punching each other, Steve.”

“That’s not all the movie was, and you know it!”

“Two hours!”

And just like that, they fall into their usual banter, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie can’t quite let go of what he’s been reminded of.

It follows him back home (to his home) with the movie in his hand (a decidedly non-sports-related movie) and dogs his thoughts and winds him up, and by the time Steve has gotten off work and is leaving his shoes politely by the door, Eddie is – well, he’s a little on edge.

A bit twitchy.

Maybe more than a bit.

Maybe he might be watching Steve, looking for signs that he doesn’t want to be there, that he has better places to be, that Steve regrets turning down Maryellen (if that even was her name? Now that Eddie thinks about it, it might have been Marie. Hard to say).

Maybe he watches Steve carefully as they make dinner, and as they eat, and as Steve heckles his movie choice just for the hell of it, and maybe he jumps on it a little too hard when, as the evening gets later, Steve glances at the clock and sighs.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” Eddie says, shooting for perfectly casual.

Steve, who had been partway through rubbing tiredly at his eyes (probably about time to get those contacts out; he always forgets, and Eddie is always reminding him), pauses and pulls his hand away from his face to look blearily at Eddie. “What?”

“Just, if you have other places to be, y’know?” Eddie shrugs. “You don’t have to stay.”

Steve blinks. “What other places would I be right now?”

Eddie shrugs. He’s very casual about this and not worked up at all, as evidenced by all the easy shrugging he’s doing. “Oh, I don’t know. With Maryellen, maybe? She seemed pretty interested in taking you out tonight.”

A confused sort of look is working its way onto Steve’s face, like he has no idea what the hell Eddie is talking about, like he hadn’t just turned down a date earlier today. “Do you mean Madeline?” Shit, right, that was it. “Why would I want to be with her? Dude, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know, Steve!” Eddie snaps, tossing his arms up in hopes that it’ll get some of his nervous energy out. “I just know that you’ve been here babysitting me almost every night for weeks–”

“I’m not babysitting, what are you–”

“And I figure that maybe there’s other shit you’d rather be doing! Places to be, things to do, people to fuck, whatever.”

And– Oops.

Eddie hadn’t quite meant to let all that out. And now Steve looks offended.

“What the hell is your problem tonight?” Steve asks, sitting up from where he’d been slouching on Eddie’s bed. “Did I do something to make you think I don’t wanna be here, or what?”

“I – well – do you want to be here?” Eddie splutters. “You’re a popular guy, and you’re turning down dates to sit around in my room all night? Doesn’t check out, man!”

Unnervingly, Steve doesn’t immediately snap back. He just stares at Eddie for a long moment.

“So, what? You think I’d rather be at some high school party? Drunk off my ass? Making out with some girl who doesn’t know me or give a shit about me?” Steve finally asks, voice low and heavy. “What the hell have I done since you’ve actually gotten to know me that made you think I still want all that shit?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t exactly have a specific defense.

Steve scoffs. “Did you ever think that I just want to spend time with you? That I like being here, that I like you? But fine, whatever.” He slides off the bed and stands up. “You want me to fuck off so badly, I’ll go.”

And with that, he stalks out of Eddie’s room.

Eddie is so busy reeling with the “I like you” of it all that it isn’t until he hears Steve shuffling with his shoes by the door that he manages to snap into action.

“Steve!” he calls down the hall, running full tilt for the entryway, because he doesn’t know much, but he knows he needs to stop Steve before he leaves, before some kind of irreparable damage is done.

Steve doesn’t pause, reaching for the door and pulling it open, and what Eddie means to do is step past him, put a hand on the door, keep Steve there just a little longer so they can talk.

What actually happens is that Eddie’s momentum carries him flying right past Steve, into the door, yanking the knob from Steve’s hand and slamming the whole thing shut.

“Eddie, what the fuck!” Steve exclaims, (rightfully) startled.

“I don’t actually want you to fuck off, okay?” Eddie insists, because he is a god of eloquence when under unexpected pressure. “I want… I really want the opposite of that, actually.”

Steve shoots him a disbelieving look. “So you were being a dick because you want me to stay,” he says flatly.

“Nooot exactly,” Eddie draws the words out, reaching up and twisting his fingers in his hair while he tries to think. “I was being a dick because I want you to stay but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to.”

Steve continues to stare at him. “Eddie, that makes no goddamn sense.”

“I didn’t say it did! I think we know each other well enough for you to know by now that I am barely in charge of my brain, Steve!” Eddie huffs. “I just – I don’t get why you would want to hang around here when you probably have better options.”

“No, see, that’s the part that doesn’t make sense,” Steve says, his voice going a little softer. “You thinking I wouldn’t want to stay, or that there’s anywhere better for me to be. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. I just… want to be here with you.”

“You…” Eddie looks over at Steve, really looks, and catches the anxiety sitting in his expression, and the hopeful spark in his wide eyes, and realizes that he’s absolutely had the wrong end of the stick. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a shrug that’s just about as casual as Eddie has been all night.

“Well then.” Eddie reaches up and slides the deadbolt back into place before giving the door a little pat; its services will no longer be required. Then, before he can think better of it, he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together and giving him a little tug back towards the hall. “Come on.”

“And where are you taking me, exactly?” Steve asks, amused and something a bit like relieved.

Eddie continues pulling him down the hall, heading for his room, and tosses a grin over his shoulder. “I am taking you exactly to where we both want to be.”

And if the way Steve crowds him over the threshold and into his bedroom is to be trusted, they are perfectly on the same page.

[foolsocracy]

With all the age discourse around Spider-Man Noir right now, I thought I’d compile parts of the comic that imply his age. I want to state that this pulling from his 2009-2010 comic run before the time skip, specifically the first volume. The spiderverse movie has taken a lot of liberties with the characters, so it is very possible that what Peters age is in 1933 in the comics is NOT what his age is in 1933 in the movies.

Peter’s age is not directly stated in his 1st comic run (I can’t speak for the 2020 ones because it has been a while since I read them, plus there’s like a 10 year jump). It IS however heavily implied that he is young. So much so that you can’t seem to go more than a page without someone referencing it.

Like, these all happen in the same scene. The writers beat you over the head with it.

In this issue alone Peter is called both “son” and “sonny” once, “boy” twice, and “kid” 8 times. Outside nouns, he is also referred to as young, and when Urich brings him to The Black Cat, Felicia calls it “babysitting.” Urich also asks Peter if he is “allowed out after midnight” but after some research I can’t seem to find any evidence of NYC having juvenile curfews at this point in time, though they did exist in lots of towns in the late 1800s and early 1900s because of child labor laws. I think this instance is just Pete just being young and an adult being concerned about his well-being.

It is also mentioned in this volume, and again in Eyes Without a Face (vol 2), that Peter wants to go to college in the future and is currently studying & saving up money to do so. This alone doesn’t necessarily mean he’s under 18 as there isn’t a max age to apply for college, plus Peter comes from a poor family during the Great Depression. It wouldn’t surprise me if he started college later than usual because of that (lack of funds & catching up due to not being in school/working).

There is other evidence that does imply he is under 18 though— he’s too young to drink alcohol!

Spider-Man Noir Vol 1 issue 1 starts in January 1933 before jumping back three weeks to December 1932 where Ben Urich meets Peter Parker

It is during December 1932 that he meets Felicia Hardy who owns the speakeasy The Black Cat. Prohibition is still in place and won’t be overwritten until a year later in December 1933. It is important to note that before Prohibition was instated, the drinking age in New York was 18 years old. That law is what the characters reference when they discuss drinking age. And most importantly, Peter doesn’t deny the fact that he’s too young to drink. He just snarks back in true Parker fashion

This is the most concrete evidence there is towards Peter being under 18 in the noirverse. It can even be argued that Peter is under 17 with how easily Felicia picks up on the fact that he’s underage (and that she does so from a distance might I add, as seen in the ‘babysitting’ panel).

There is also a panel where JJJ refers to Peter as an “orphan.” By definition, an orphan is a kid under 18. This is JJJ, so this can be taken with a grain of salt as he loves good ol hard-hitting words. When people speak they don’t always use words by their exact definitions; sometimes if you’re young and your parents are dead, JJJ is going to label you an orphan even if ur a legal adult lol. But if you take this at face value it’s definitely another indicator that Peter is under 18.

TLDR; Spider-Man Noir from his 2009-2010 comic run is most likely under 18, and can be argued to be 15-16+. If not that, then is definitely college aged or younger.

[epinebleue]

love me now (m) | 05

in which you go for a night drive.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), car sex, mention of past toxic relationships.

chapter index

Most times, Friday nights are pretty lively.

Sometimes, you go to your favorite club, whose owner is a good friend of yours. If you’re not in the mood for clubbing, you order pizza and watch a movie before making out on the couch.

But today is different. You’re bored as hell, having lost all interest in the movie you’re supposed to be watching. Johnny must feel the same, because when you turn to look at him, he’s scrolling through his Instagram feed aimlessly with one hand, caressing your leg with the other.

“Why don’t we go out?” He suddenly says, blocking his phone and leaving it on the coffee table.

“I don’t feel like partying.”

“I didn’t mean to party.” He corrects. “Something like a night drive.”

That sounds much better, so you accept right away. You pick something comfortable, not bothering to glance at the rest of the clothes in your wardrobe. When you reach the entrance, you see that Johnny has chosen something sporty, too. He grabs his keys from the keyholder next to the intercom, opening the door for you.

“Why don’t we get McDonald’s?”

You’re unable to contain your excitement, smiling as you get in the elevator, and pushing the parking button. Johnny grabs your cheeks and kisses your forehead so delicately that you think you’ll melt in his arms.

“Anything for you, babe.”

You sit on the passenger seat, immediately demanding the aux cord. Johnny doesn’t even fight it, knowing it’ll be a waste of time. It’s a fact that you’re in charge of the music when you travel by car. It’s also a fact that won't change anytime soon.

The car starts moving, and Johnny drives towards the nearest McDonald’s.

The song you’ve chosen plays softly in the background as you observe the streetlights through the window.

“How come we’ve never done this before?” 

Johnny simply shrugs, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Maybe it wasn’t the right time yet.”

“Wow.” You nod, feigning being impressed. “Deep.”

You open the window on your side, the night breeze hitting your face. You cross your arms over the window, your eyes drawn to the city lights that seem endless.

New York’s beauty is truly hypnotizing.

This is the city where you were born and raised; where you studied; in which you met most of your friends. It’s the city that gave you Johnny, and that makes it much more special. 

Johnny pulls into the drive-thru, steering the wheel with his palm. The technique makes your stomach tingle. He always looks so hot while driving, you could watch him for hours.

There’s only one car in front of you, so they prepare your order rather quickly. To be honest, you’ve been craving a burger, fries, and ice cream for a while, so you don’t hold yourself back. You’ll eat everything, even if it means having a stomachache later. It’ll have been worth it.

You pay, then move to the parking lot. You give Johnny his burger, which is huge, and fish for your fries at the bottom of the bag.

“I remember that when I was little,” Johnny says, “I celebrated my birthday at McDonald’s. They even gave me a paper crown.”

“That’s what I call luxury.”

“Mom sent me the photo yesterday.”

Johnny takes his phone out of his pocket, scrolling down the gallery until he finds said picture. A big smile crosses your face when he shows it to you.

Johnny couldn’t be more than six years old. His round face is the first thing you notice. Then, you look at his mom, who is holding him in her lap. She looked so pretty with her short hair and dark lipstick. In all honesty, she hasn’t changed much. They’re both wearing a paper crown shaped like a clown.

“Your mom’s so beautiful.”

“What about her son?”

He leans forward, brushing your cheek with the tip of his nose.

“He’s even more beautiful.”

Johnny kisses you, satisfied with the answer. He loves compliments, especially if they come from you. He gets all shy and smiley, and his cheeks go pink.

It’s crazy to think that, when you met Johnny, you found him a bit intimidating. He was tall and only wore black clothes, plus his resting bitch face didn’t help at all. But once you started talking and got to know each other better, you realized he was a human-shaped teddy bear rather than a jerk.

His voice snaps you out of your memories and brings you back to the present time.

“What if I buy another burger?”

You gasp, laughing in disbelief. “Babe, no!”

“Why not?” He mops, discharging the wrap on the empty bag placed in between the seats.

“One is enough.” You insist.

“They’re small! Two is the perfect amount.”

“They seem small because your hand is huge. If you eat another one, cholesterol will atrophy your arteries and, eventually, you’ll die.” Your tone is so serious that Johnny starts laughing seconds later, covering his face with his hands. “Why are you laughing? I’m right!” Now you’re laughing, too.

“That was so mean!”

“It's a medical fact, Johnny!.”

“Fine, you convinced me.”

Once you’ve finished your meal, Johnny drives aimlessly around the city before deciding where to go next. There’s a park from which you can see New York’s skyline, so that’s the destination. Johnny manages to find a secluded spot from which you have a nice view of the city, along with some privacy.

“This might be the best idea I’ve had this week.”

“Or this month.”

Your soft laughs fill the car for a few seconds before going back to silence. Johnny glances in your direction, watching you get lost in the stars and the lights of the city that watched you grow up.

“Everything okay?”

You hum, nodding. “I’m just… reminiscing.”

“A penny for your thoughts.”

You take a deep breath, your eyes never darting away from the view beneath you.

“During my last year of high school, I dated this boy. He was handsome and so, so funny. He treated me like a queen and sometimes made me wonder if he had just jumped right out of a fairy tale. We had the most romantic six months and then, he left me. He never said why, he didn’t even dare to break up with me in person. He told my best friend and asked her to give me the message.”

“What a fucker.” Johnny mumbles.

“For the longest time, I thought I was the problem because I wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, smart enough for him. I felt so worthless and sad that I kind of started to drift away. I allowed pretty fucked up things to happen to me that I’ve tried to forget.” Johnny grabs your hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. You’ve got his full attention. “Years later, I started dating again, but I… I was scared all the time. Not that they were horrible people, I was just afraid that they would leave me and make me return to the toxic relationship I had with myself. And then, you came around.”

You turn your head, looking for Johnny’s eyes. He’s looking at you with those fond orbs that you adore.

“Not once have you made me doubt myself. In any way.”

He cups your cheeks and pecks your lips, moving away just enough for you to look him in the eye again.

“I’ll never give you a reason to be scared.”

You give him a reassuring smile.

“I know.”

Slowly, Johnny starts kissing you, his lips soft and warm. The tip of his tongue touches your mouth and you open it, giving him full access. His wet muscle brushes yours and, delicately, Johnny holds the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You reach for his T-shirt, your clouded mind looking for the craved contact, any kind of contact.

“I need you.” He mumbles against his lips, and it’s all you need to hear.

You straddle his lap, trying to find a comfortable position in the driver's seat of the car. Johnny’s basketball shorts are thin enough to let you feel his boner against your core, and you find satisfaction in the fact that he’s just as worked up as you are. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Johnny squeezes you against his clothed chest, so tightly that you don’t know where you start and where Johnny ends.

You could get caught, you could get arrested, but none of that fades you. Right now, the only thing in your mind is Johnny. Johnny licking the length of your neck, Johnny biting where he knows it’ll make you hiss his name. You drag your hips, humping his boner, and when Johnny moans against your mouth, the little clarity you have slips through your fingers like water.

“What about taking this to the back?”

Johnny’s nod is enough of an answer. Before you know it, you’re making your way into the backseat, Johnny on your heels.

Your hands untie the lace of your sweatpants the moment you fall on the seat, Johnny lingering in the door, watching you. You take them off under his gaze, pressing your back against the door behind you and opening your legs to let him peek at the wet patch in your underwear. It’s not long before you take it off, too, the crisp air making you shiver.

“You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Come and punish me, then.”

You straddle his lap once again when Johnny gets in the car, your lips crashing against his. He looks for the door’s handle in the dark, slamming it, before taking off both his shorts and boxers in a swift movement.

You feel Johnny’s hand sneaking in between your bodies, then he’s forcing his length into you.

New York is a beautiful city, especially at night, but you’ve got the best view in front of you. Johnny lets his head fall back, his pretty mouth open and gasping for air as you start bouncing on his cock without warning, too eager to wait.

Johnny looks at you through half-opened eyes, his hands falling on your waist to give a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen.” He whispers against your neck. “Especially when I’m balls-deep inside you.”

“I’m even prettier when you make me cum.”

Johnny’s fingers dig into your ass, guiding you up and down his cock.

“Is that so?”

You nod, biting your lips at the feeling of his tip hitting that spot that makes you go feral.

“You should see for yourself.”

Johnny takes it seriously, hugging your waist and fixing you in place, his pace getting quicker.  

You didn’t expect to get railed in the backseat of his car when he offered a midnight drive, but here you are, wishing you were completely naked to scratch his broad shoulders, back, and chest, which he loves.

Today, he’ll have to settle for the mark of your teeth in his collarbone.

He pants in your ear, his hot breath fanning the droplets of sweat that decorate your neck like diamonds. You whine and wiggle, trying to break free from his grip.

“I want to ride you.”

Johnny usually makes you beg a little more, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets go of your waist.

You grind back and forth, making the most out of this new freedom he has granted you. It’s so hot inside the car that the windows are all fogged and your top sticks to your body. You take it off, much to Johnny’s delight, who grabs your breasts and squeezes them.

His hands move up and reach your sweaty neck, pushing away the strands of hair glued to the skin to lock one of them behind it. He uses it to hold you down, retraining your movements.

You open your mouth to protest, but he kisses you before you can say anything, rubbing your clit with his free hand, making you tremble, a choked moan ricocheting against the walls of the vehicle.

“Sorry, baby.” He says even though he’s not sorry at all, thrusting faster. “You can be in charge another time.”

The brutal pace of both his hips and hand is enough to make you forget why you were mad in the first place. He pounds into you as if you hadn’t had sex in months, he growls like an animal when you try to fuck him back, eyes shut close to focus on the feelings of his cock making its way into you over and over again.

Your legs hurt, yet you don’t want to stop.

You don’t last long, white sparkles dance around in the darkness when you reach your high.

Johnny fucks you through it for as long as he can, pressing his hips to yours as he fills you up, your name in his mouth like a song.

You rest your head on his shoulder, allowing him to caress your hair, you both trying to catch your breaths.

“Was that good?”

“I’ve got your cum inside me.” You remark. “So there’s your answer.”

Johnny’s chest shakes with his laugh, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You would fall asleep if it wasn’t for his voice breaking the silence.

“Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“What?”

“There’s a car parked right next to us.”

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023

[bliss-in-the-void]

Gege Akutami, You Do Not Understand Gojo Satoru, and Here is Why

I was reading this article to help me cope with the traumatic events of Chapter 236 when a certain portion didn’t sit right with me.

Long post, click to read the full analysis:

(this is probably the most important post I've made so far)

Now, we all know that Gege doesn’t like Gojo. They don’t make it a secret in the slightest. Which is fine in itself, as an author you are 100% within your right to hate a character you created, and I respect that—it gives dimension to the dynamic of a story.

What I don’t care for is the reasons Akutami lists for their dislike of Gojo.

Reason #1 as stated in the above blurb of the article: Gojo doesn’t have depth.

To me, this is a wild statement to make as an author, but especially as the one who wrote Gojo. Where does he lack depth? Genuine question.

I believe he is an incredibly complex character.

He is the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes and Limitless techniques, which automatically sets up so many nuances. Coupled with the fact that Akutami has stated that he grew up spoiled, that right there should tell you some things about why he is the way he is. He has a bit of an inflated ego when it comes to his powers. And why wouldn’t he? From the time he was born, the people around him treated him like some sort of God. How else was he supposed to grow up? He’s told his whole life he possesses unparalleled power, and he’s going to believe that.

Even still, it really isn’t as unchecked as Akutami seems to believe it is. Despite his distaste for authority, Gojo still reports to the higher ups, goes on missions, exorcizes curses, and works collaboratively with his fellow sorcerers. If he was really the giant egomaniac Akutami argues that he is, he’d say ‘to hell with authority’ and run off to do whatever he wants like Yuki. I mean, COME ON, this guy is the most powerful modern sorcerer and he still attended all four years of high school. He could have easily never attended—who was going to stop him?

He has a peculiar sense of humor that can get inappropriately timed in certain moments, but it’s obvious that it’s a deflection and a coping mechanism for the horrors of a sorcerer’s reality. He doesn’t just joke about death and dying because he doesn’t care. He cares too much and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, so he suppresses and laughs it off. Moments like this are seen after Suguru dies in JJK 0 when he was clearly crying afterward, but had to put on a cheerful facade for Yuuta and the other students.

He is a very good teacher. It’s hard for a naturally gifted prodigy to effectively teach things which come automatically to them, and somehow he finds creative ways to do it. Teaching Yuuji to control cursed energy by using one of Yaga’s dolls and giving him a movie marathon? One of Yuuji’s favorite hobbies? Genius and so considerate for Yuuji. He’d just been thrown into the sorcerer world, learning all these new things, and Gojo decided to introduce a foreign concept to him through something familiar and comfortable to him. That is amazing, and the mark of a very kind, understanding teacher. He’s also really patient with his students. Yes, he gives them tough love sometimes by throwing them into missions, but it really is to make them strong. How else will they grow if they aren’t put under pressure?

His motivation for being a teacher is very selfless. He himself has stated that he isn’t suited to be a teacher, but that he has a dream to raise a generation of strong allies to prevent isolation from occurring like what had happened to Suguru. He felt guilty about growing apart from him, didn’t see the warning signs before he snapped, and regrets not being there for him more. His entire purpose now is dedicated to making sure the new wave of sorcerers have a tightly-knit network so that no one ends up alone and on a dark path like Suguru.

He constantly sticks his neck out for the helpless even when it’s far from his benefit. He paid off the Zenin clan to save Megumi, the child of the man who ruined his high school years and nearly killed him. He then raised him. He threatened the higher ups to keep Yuuta alive, and then did it again for Yuuji. He does this to preserve their youth, because his own was taken away from him. His whole life he’d been controlled by the higher ups and people around him because of who he is in the sorcerer world, so by waving his own status in front of authority to hold them back from his students, he acts as a sort of shield to take as many burdens off of their shoulders as he can so that they can remain carefree. As much as he can within his power.

With all of that being said, I really don’t understand where Akutami is coming from with lack of depth, but another argument I say to that statement is: well, you’re the author, give him the depth you think he’s missing. (Personally, I believe he’s one of the best-written characters in any anime I’ve seen).

Reason #2 is that according to Akutami, he doesn’t have a likable personality.

What about his personality is unlikable?

He is cocky, but not to the point where he stops caring about others, not to the point where he never considers how other people feel or how his actions affect other people, and not to the point where he never feels guilt and remorse about his shortcomings. Like I said, he lives his life trying to prevent his past from repeating itself, to save the fates of others.

I really don’t get it. In JJK 0, after Nitta gives her report on the shopping mall, Gojo thanks her and praises her. Would a cocky asshole do that? No. If you wanted to characterize him as unlikable, you could have made him dismiss her, or ignore her.

He makes pop culture references, he has endearing flaws like not being good at drawing, being a lightweight drinker, and overdoing it on the sweets. He’s funny, he’s kind, he’s considerate…he is a very likable character.

Honestly, the self-absorption he displays when he’s fighting is probably a result of his upbringing. Being told you have so much power you have so much power you have so much power over and over again instills this belief that yes, he’s needed by Jujutsu Society to fight curses as a weapon. As. A. Weapon. The Six Eyes & Limitless user is a formidable weapon, but what about Satoru Gojo, the person? The only time he feels useful is when he’s fighting curses. That’s where he gets his self-worth. We can see that expressed in this panel, from Chapter 236:

In the second half of Gojo’s second text bubble, he says, “でもどこかで人としてというより生き物としての線引きがあったのかな”.

This translates to: “But I wonder if somewhere there was a line drawn between being a creature rather than a person.”

Rather than having drew the line himself, being constantly treated like the strongest, being handed over the difficult missions, being relied on so heavily pushed him away from other people. It distorted the perception everyone had of him, and it distorted the perception he had of himself. He also believed he could never lose because he let his human side fade into the background. The world didn't need human Satoru Gojo, they needed sorcerer Satoru Gojo, the one who could bend rules to his will with his might, the one who could exorcise any curse and save the day no matter how bad things got. Why would he remain human when that part of him was treated as non-existent? The only person who did treat him as a person with weaknesses and flaws has been dead for eleven years. Of course that voice of reason is going to fizzle out.

How can you possibly vilify him for that? It would be a disservice to everything he has had to endure his entire life.

Reason #3 and the last point I want to touch on is when the article says, "Akutami believes that much of this adoration is based solely on his striking appearance, overshadowing his more abrasive personality traits."

Okay. Where to start?

Honestly, and I know this is probably not Akutami's intention, but that comes off as so condescending. It's so presumptuous. It's as if to say we're all going "ooh look at pretty man, pretty man do no wrong because too pretty" mindlessly with dilated pupils and drool coming out of our mouths. Uh. No.

Yes, Satoru is a good-looking character, but no, that is very far from why we like him so much as a character, and it's also very far from why he's so popular. Aside from all of the points I've made above explaining why he's so universally loved, I'll make another one that isn't superficial and tired.

He's so relatable.

This is a man so incredibly traumatized by his high school years that he is mentally and emotionally unable to move on. Suguru Geto was his very best friend, and for reasons he took too long to understand, chose to abandon their friendship for his own goals. For anyone who has grown apart from a best friend, this hits so hard.

Because of his upbringing it was hard to become close to anyone. But somehow, Suguru was able to break past his walls, and for that, he became entirely too dependent on him. This is common for anyone who finds it hard to make friends and get close to others. Once someone is allowed in, you cling so hard to them and imagine them being there for your entire life. So, when they leave, you take it entirely too personally.

Everyone has a right to live their own lives, and as we see with the divergence of Suguru and Satoru, sometimes our paths aren't leading to the same place. It's not personal. But Satoru took it personal, and that's so beautifully human. When you lose a best friend who was important to you, you think "I like being around this person, they put me at ease in a way no one else does", and you assume they feel the same way about you. So when they leave and show you that no, they didn't feel the same, it hurts. It's almost as if they're saying "I actually do think you're unlovable like everyone else, that's why no one likes you, you are too much."

Someone you thought was safe, isn't anymore.

That is such a relatable thing to watch a character go through! Especially someone as awe-inspiring and charismatic as Gojo! As an audience, we think, "he's just like me!" and we like him for it.

So, as I stated in the title, Gege Akutami, you don't understand Satoru Gojo at all. I commend you for writing such an amazing, iconic, universally loved character, but I will never understand nor respect the superficial way in which you perceive him.

[lawbreaker13]

There’s something about Elemental that I love but I can’t quite seem to articulate.

[Spoilers by the way]

At the end of the movie, Ember and Wade leave together so Ember can take her internship at the glass company. This is supposedly a full time thing for her, which means she’s moving. Like yeah, she underestimates herself like “oh it probably won’t go anywhere and I’ll be back home soon,” but that’s a very “ooh this is a big step and I don’t feel ready to move out” mentality (literally told my parents I’d be back at the end of my first year’s lease, it’s just a mental safety net, but boy was that a relatable line for me). Regardless of her lack of confidence in herself and this potential new job, she is moving out. And Wade is going with her.

She had said “I want to travel the world with you.” That’s great, and I hope they do, but that’s not what’s happening here. It’s said that this is several months, maybe even a year after the main events of the movie. The majority of the movie itself spans a couple weeks or so (edit: I counted, it’s about 8-12 days). So by the time they leave for Ember’s internship, Ember and Wade have been dating for a while. Anywhere between three months and a year. Wade is leaving with her, and it’s difficult for me to believe they’re going anywhere but the same place. Which means they’re moving in together.

Now I know that it sounds like I’m just freaking out and being incoherent about a ship, but the truth of the matter is, that’s really mature of Pixar.

Family friendly and kid-centric animation tends not to push anything but the “fall in love, kiss, get married, move in, have babies” pipeline. But what I loved about Elemental was that it portrayed a REALISTIC, HEALTHY, and MATURE relationship. One where the couple has arguments about real things that matter and after space, they talk it out. One where “I don’t understand” isn’t an invitation to shut down (even if Ember meant it that way in the heat of the moment), but an invitation to try and learn. One where anger and “I’m leaving” can be met with “I’m coming with you,” and one where the couple doesn’t just love each other right off the bat, they have to DATE MANY TIMES AND GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER, SEE EACH OTHER IN THE WORST OF TIMES, and THEN, realize they’re in love. AND they said it out loud, which doesn’t happen often either (edit: I am well aware that a week or two is a very short amount of time to fall in love, but I’m gonna cut them A LITTLE slack because it’s not like. 3 days, and also they seemingly saw each other every single day for those couple weeks and had the months after that. It’s rare, but sometimes, when you know, you know).

But beyond that. Beyond dating, getting to know each other, communicating and helping each other out, and deciding “yes, we can and should be together,” Elemental showed these two doing an adult thing together—leaving home and moving out. Because they are ADULTS. And the fact that I felt like this movie was targeted towards me and my peers the same way a PG-13 or R rated movie might be, strictly because of the realism in the character’s interactions and dynamic, that is something that I absolutely adore. Like, Zootopia was a kid’s movie with mature themes. Miraculous is a kid’s show with mature themes. Even Avatar: The Last Airbender was clearly targeted towards children, even though we all know it has something for everyone.

But Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. The Spider-Verse movies. And honestly, Elemental. These feel like our movies. Movies I’m glad the kids can enjoy, but they’re made for us. The 20- and 30-year-olds.

I’m just so happy to see animation studios treating adult characters like real people. Maybe soon people will start to recognize animation as a legitimate form of storytelling, too.

I loved Elemental. I really did.

[tomorrowxtogether]

SOOBIN: “I thought I should just try to shine as I am.”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback interview

2024.11.11

He once strived to become a lush, towering forest. But he realized that people will love him for exactly what he is—a deep, rolling ocean. And so, he decided to remain as whom he always has been: an ocean named SOOBIN.

You took a trip to Vietnam earlier this year with BEOMGYU. I heard you planned the whole thing. SOOBIN: I’m usually the kind of person who just goes around without a real plan, but since we don’t get much vacation time, I figured we’d better go all out and do everything we could in one go, so I tried planning it all out. (laughs) BEOMGYU just wanted to go with the flow, but there was a ton of stuff I wanted to do.

I’m sure it’s not easy taking a trip or spending your off time with the same people you spend all your time with. SOOBIN: I hang out a lot with the rest of the group on my own time too, though. Three of us were all hanging out together just yesterday. To be perfectly honest, it doesn’t feel like anything special since we’re always together 365 days a year, but I’m also most comfortable around them for the same reason.

Sometimes people start bickering with each other when they get too comfortable with one another, but you’re always so kind—like how you gifted BEOMGYU with a nap in that “The Perfect Way to Rest” video when you remembered he was feeling tired. SOOBIN: I think I’m good at picking up on things. I don’t know if I can do it with everyone, but at least with the other members of the group, I’m pretty good at telling how they’re feeling or if they’re not feeling well. As soon as I see one of them, I can tell, Oh, he looks a little rough today, or, He’s sure in a good mood today. (laughs) If they seem down, I go over to them to find out what’s wrong and talk it over.

Your kindness also comes across when you’re with animals, like in the “OUR TOMORROW” video, where you took care of one dog who was so nervous that it didn’t get a chance to eat any treats. Have you always been drawn to people and creatures that are small and left out? SOOBIN: So, so much. In fact, I was really shy and struggled to fit in when I was a trainee. I was really lonely at first. So when time passed and I finally got accustomed to things, if I saw another trainee who was shy and couldn’t adjust, I felt like looking out for them. Kai was among them. (laughs) That’s how I ended up becoming really close with him.

You talked about the cat your sister adopted recently, explaining how it used to be shy because it had a hard life in the past but that it finally opened up this year. SOOBIN: I went to see the cat when my sister first got it, but I couldn’t even see it that first time—it just hid under the couch. It was so shy that I thought I’d never get to pet it, but the last time I saw it, it came right up to me and started purring, wanting to be petted. It was able to overcome its painful past and open up to my family thanks to all the love they show looking after it. Love really does have the power to change anything. (laughs)

You also said on weverse LIVE recently that you made a new friend who you can talk about dramas, movies, and books with. SOOBIN: For me, dramas and movies don’t end with watching them—after you’re done watching, that’s when things are just getting started. I always look up reviews and analyses online. People can watch the same thing and they’ll all have their own thoughts on it, so I’m curious about all those different views, and now I have someone to talk about that with. They know a lot more about books and movies than I do, so I end up learning a lot when we’re sharing our thoughts together. Just having a friend to share my interests with is really fun.

You mentioned talking about Inside Out 2, and you looked at how it features a place to store things you’ve heard that you want to keep for a long time, which got you thinking about what sort of things you would want to hold onto. SOOBIN: I kept recalling things my friends say after we hang out—things like, “SOOBIN, I’m so happy we’re friends,” and, “I feel great whenever I’m with you.” Hearing things like that really touches my heart. Seriously, how often do you get to hear things like that in life? I used to find expressing things like that awkward and weird, but thanks to my friends, I’m getting used to saying I love and appreciate people. You empathized with how Anxiety works harder and feels more anxious than others because they want to be good at things. Are there things you feel you should work harder at than other people? SOOBIN: I’m actually slower at learning choreography compared to the other members. I assumed I’d get a lot better after debuting and regularly performing onstage, but progress was slower than I expected. I didn’t say anything about this before, and I even kept it a secret from the other members, but I actually got separate choreo lessons on the side when we were doing “Chasing That Feeling” and “Deja Vu.” We’d take lessons as a group, and then once I was alone I’d always spend about an hour dancing and working on the little details. I tried so hard with those two most recent songs that I even practiced on my own like that. Seeing as I’m slow, I have to work harder to keep up with the other members. If I have more time, I want to practice more for this comeback, too.

With all the touring you’ve done and the encore performances you have coming up, it must’ve been really hectic getting ready for your Star Chapter: SANCTUARY comeback. SOOBIN: The schedule was really tight this time around—we even had to record vocals in Japan in the middle of the tour since we were in and out of the country—but now that we’re in our sixth year, the five of us were all really fast about things. I could sense that we had grown compared to before since we were faster at recording than we could’ve expected to be in the past and it took us less time to work out the details of the choreography.

The album’s subtitle, SANCTUARY, is a word that’s appeared in TOMORROW X TOGETHER albums before. What’s been your sanctuary these days? SOOBIN: I never used to have a sanctuary, which made getting through tough times hard, but I do now: simple things like working out or reading. It feels like the things that break me away from overthinking and let me immerse myself in something else are my sanctuary.

You were complimented on your previous promotions for your improved vocals and high notes. What about on this album? SOOBIN: Actually, every other album we’ve done had a song in a genre I wasn’t confident in, but not this time. The single “Over The Moon” is really laid-back, and I felt like it was perfect timing for us to try out a song like that. What’s unfortunate is that I caught this horrendous cold during recording. We started practicing for live performances recently, and the director said, “SOOBIN’s singing better than he did when recording. He makes it sound effortless.” So I couldn’t help but think about how much better I could’ve done if only my throat had been in better shape.

You always focus a lot on lyrics. Were there any on this album that have stuck with you in particular? SOOBIN: This album isn’t so much about telling some big, sweeping story as it is about everything we’ve been through together. Now that we’ve been through all that chaos, it’s about the universal emotion of love, which everyone can relate to, and I liked that about it. There’s a line in “Higher Than Heaven” that sticks with me that goes, “I think I kinda get what forever means now.” I even once said, “I never used to believe in the word ‘forever,’ but I think I can now, thanks to our fans.” I didn’t write that part, but it’s like it was written to perfectly capture my feelings.

The other members have probably had an impact on your belief in the word “forever,” too. SOOBIN: I’m pretty sure we’re going to grow old together and that we’ll be together till the day I die. We do the same thing and basically live the same life day in and day out, so we know what makes each other cry the most during concerts, too. Whether it’s my tears of happiness or BEOMGYU’s tears of disappointment from a leg injury, having friends to understand and share those feelings with is nice. They’re all just really kind people—calm and clear, like a stream. None of us is domineering or splashing around, disturbing the peace, and nobody’s dirtying the water, so I think we’ll be able to stick together for a long, long time.

You said before that you had found being onstage tough while touring. Now that you’ve already wrapped up your third world tour, do you still find that to be the case? SOOBIN: I think I’m getting better over time. I still can’t say that I completely enjoy myself, but the worries I used to have before going onstage have gone away entirely. There used to be times where I found it hard to watch myself onstage because I didn’t like how I looked, but now I see myself up there and I think I look cool. (laughs)

The way you have a different outfit on for every sound check when you’re on tour is definitely cool. SOOBIN: For fans who come even though they’re busy, showing up hours before the concert just to wait, doing it purely out of love, I wanted to be more stylish, so I bought a lot of clothes just for sound checks. The glasses-plus-cardigan combo was something I bought in advance for summer, and the reaction from the audience was amazing! They showed me on the big screen and MOA was screaming their lungs out—like, not the usual “wow,” but, “aah!” Like shock and awe. (laughs) I was worried I went overboard with the look, but they showed they liked it, so I was happy.

There’s no way not to bring up your cover of the Choi Yu Ree song “Forest” when talking about you. You said that the people around you are like tall trees in a forest and that you thought you’re one of them, but that you figured out you’re actually more like the ocean. SOOBIN: It’s easy to find people around me who are better looking and sing and dance better than I do. I actually started thinking about that at Lollapalooza. The other members looked so happy and like they were having so much fun onstage, but I couldn’t. I felt eaten up inside seeing myself not being able to fully enjoy it because of all the pressure. Then I heard Choi Yu Ree explaining that “Forest” is about feeling like you’re not good enough and I thought, “Ah, so that’s what I’ve been going through.” I started to understand my emotions a little bit better. Everyone ends up comparing themselves to others at some point in their lives—it’s unavoidable. And they have times where all they can see are the things they hate about themselves, but it’s ridiculous. I was overflowing with negative feelings when I was working on my “Forest” cover, and I wanted to sort of deal with those feelings and express them.

The music video echoes your thoughts that someday you’ll come to shore and become one with the forest. What does the forest mean to you? SOOBIN: Just being a singer who’s good at singing and dancing, interacting with my fans, enjoying performing, and being able to do it all with complete sincerity. I think I was showing how the forest to me means being happy with the other members when they’re happy. Nothing big—just simple things I’m not always that good at.

Do you feel more like a forest now that some time has gone by? SOOBIN: Umm … I saw a ton of comments from fans after I covered “Forest.” My mindset when I was doing it was, Right now I’m like the ocean, but I’ll become a part of the forest just like you guys—so wait for me until then. But once I saw what fans were writing, I changed my mind and thought, Do I really need to become a part of the forest? I could be similar to the forest, but I don’t have to change myself to be one. My fans kept saying, “The whole reason we liked you in the first place is because you’re like the ocean, not because we hoped you’d become like a forest. If that were the case, we’d like somebody else. Why do you think it was you?” The ocean comes with its own perks, you know. You need to have some ocean near a forest to add to the scenery and have more things to do. Now I think maybe I tried too hard to fit in by trying to be like the forest. Now I feel like I can shine bright just by being myself.

That lines up with what you recently said in an interview you did in Japan when you said that your 20s, the best and most energetic time of life, are dazzling and fun thanks to knowing MOA. What do you think you’ll see when you look back on this youthful period of your 20s? SOOBIN: Joy. Every moment of our lives is packed with good times and bad times, joy and sorrow, but in the end, I think, I’m on a path towards joy. Even things that are so agonizing that you want to die—so bad you feel like the whole world is against you, and so bad you’re certain they’re weighing on you forever, eventually pass.

Doesn’t it almost feel funny sometimes, looking back after all that? (laughs) SOOBIN: Yes. It ends up feeling so trivial somehow. Things that felt massive at the time are like a speck in the distance once you get even a little space between them and yourself. Even after all the hardship I went through being a trainee, I can look back now and see there were a lot of good times. Maybe we tend to romanticize the past a bit? (laughs) Even some of the stuff I’m going through now can be tough, to be honest, but I’m never going to give up. There’s still so much I want to give. The amount of joy I derive from doing this is way higher than the amount of difficulty. I think my life’s amazing, even right now.

So amazing. (laughs) SOOBIN: I think so too! (laughs) As time goes on and I get older, when I look back on my youth, my time with TOMORROW X TOGETHER, I wonder if it’ll look that much more shiny and amazing. Maybe I’ll feel I was even cooler at this time than I feel I am now.

[pappydaddy]

sorry about the shirt (f.w.)

a/n: now that i named this fic this, now i have an idea for another fic with this as a prompt.... ugh my mind, curse my cognition! also, i have deleted this and reformatted this like six times and the title is still not saving as a god-damn title anymore. ugh. tumblr (pls don't shadowban me again)

tv show/movie: harry potter | pairing: fred weasley x fem!hufflepuff!reader

requested by the lovely @readingfan  (hope you enjoy it💛!) | my little pea-sized, fred-lane brain made this a fred x reader without me realizing it until seconds before posting this

synopsis: fred and george getting a summer job in a coffee shop where a pretty girl frequents. said pretty girl seems to have fred in a trance. what could possibly go wrong? well, fred knows what could now that an innocent shirt has been ruined.

taglist: @frederickandgeorge-weasley | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @onyourgoddamnleft *line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: reader is described to wear sundresses | mentioned of negative thoughts about oneself (reader has negative thoughts about herself) | fred and george being teens (aged to be 18, idc if it's not canonically plausible) working in retail).

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- not my gif -

GIF by fgweasley

Summer was supposed to be a time of freedom, long nights, and recklessness and there was nobody else who knew this more than Fred and George. Unfortunately for them, it appears that their summer was going to be nothing but seeing the inside of that damn coffee shop. Fred and George rarely ever regretted a prank, but right now, they were starting to think that perhaps slipping Malfoy that candy that made his skin turn Gryffindor red and his hair a golden snitch gold wasn’t worth this. It also taught them that when Malfoy said his father would hear about this, he actually means it - sometimes.  

  However, no matter how funny the prank was and how much it was worth all the time they spent planning and agonizing to create the final product, it was not worth this. Not worth the wrinkled fingers that lost all feeling after wiping down every single table and counter in the cafe. Not worth the skin of the heat from the coffee machines. Not worth the horrible experience of dealing with customers. Not to mention uncomfortable uniforms. Forced to wear black jeans, black dress shirts, and a ratty old apron ten other people wore before them. 

  While George grumbled everyday, hoping and wishing for their return to Hogwarts (something nobody expected to hear), Fred’s summer was not a complete waste. He did not realize this when they applied for their job, but this coffee shop tucked into a hidden alleyway of Diagon Alley was often frequented by a rather pretty girl. In her flowing sundresses, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in soft waves. When he first saw her his knees nearly gave out. Then when she turned to leave (lemonade in hand - it was a hot day) and he caught a glimpse of the white ribbon tying her hair into a half-up, half-down style, George had to catch him because his knees did give out. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly place her. 

  “She’s in our year, a Hufflepuff,” Hermione had told him one day when she and Ron had visited them. They were out gathering ideas for a present for Harry. “She’s quiet, likes to stick to her routine but doesn’t shy away from new opportunities. She’s in my book club and study club. She has such a beautiful voice but she thinks it's horrible - that’s why she is so quiet.” She revealed after Fred pressed her for more information. 

  Unfortunately for Fred, he has yet to hear that beautiful voice since he never seems to be on the cash when she comes in or someone beats him to it - usually George as a form of twisted amusement. “Hermione was right. She does have a beautiful voice.” George blinked after the first time he took her order. It was later discovered that the reason she hates her voice was because some Slytherins had poked fun at her in First Year, leaving her with an ugly taste in her mouth and horrible self-confidence. Fred could wring their necks, every last one of them. 

  Anytime Fred had any downtime, he found himself thinking of her. He knew nothing of her but, yet, she consumed every thought and every dream of his. Such as today. It was a horribly humid and dreadful day. Every door to the coffee shop was open, a cooling spell was placed on the shop but it was barely fighting against the stickiness, and the owner even found some muggle fans and set them up. It was slow, barely anyone wanted to leave their houses and if they did, they surely couldn’t even think about sipping on a coffee - even one of their iced ones since the ice would probably melt before they even took their first sip. 

  But here was Fred, elbows digging into the counter as he hogged one of the fans. His back was facing the entrance as he moved with the fan which was oscillating. George was in the back, doing work back there but Fred was sure he was just sitting in front of that fan. “Bloody hell.” He groaned, pinching his shirt and pulling it away from him. This was torture. 

  “Excuse me,” A soft, hesitant voice called to him over the rattling of the fan, startling him. Turning around, his eyes widened when she saw who stood at the counter. Hair pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs hanging around her face from where the shorter strands fell out of the ponytail. Even looking right at her, he saw the ribbon she usually wore in her hair. Today’s was a pretty yellow shade, matching the sundress she wore. It was a pale yellow, nothing that jumped right out at you. “Could I get a large lemonade?” She asked him, blinking sweetly as she rolled up to the balls of her white converse. That voice. He was blown away. He was never going to be the same after hearing that beautiful sound. How could he go on with his life knowing that that voice exists and he isn’t hearing it every second of everyday.  

  “Yes, of course,” He nodded, rushing to the counter, nearly tripping over himself. “George, can you make a large lemonade?” He yelled out back as he typed away on the till. Instantly, George emerged, a large lemonade in hand. 

  “Here ya go, Y/N. I knew you would be wanting one of these today. Made it once I heard your voice.” He winked at her and Fred contemplated murdering him right there. He actually considered it when she giggled at his twin, but the sound made him stop. Everybody said her voice was the most beautiful sound, which he could agree with all his heart on now that he heard it, but her giggle. Just thinking about making her laugh made him want to lay on his stomach on his bed and kick his feet like Ginny does whenever Harry says hi to her. 

  “Thank you, George,” She smiled thankfully, holding out her hand. Almost as if under a spell, Fred reached his hand out, palm facing up. With her sweet smile turning to Fred, she dropped a handful of sickles in his palm. Her fingers brushed against the palm of his hand, sending shivers and sparks running through his nerves. “That’s enough for the lemonade and ten sickles for you guys to split for a tip. Thank you, Fred.” 

  The shock sent to Fred’s system was immense when she said his name. She knew his name. She knew his name. He opened and closed his mouth as she turned on her heel, her skirt flaring up adorably, her ponytail and ribbon flaring up as well and off she went into the dreadful heat, making Fred’s day so much better. 

____

  It was a rush. Possibly the biggest rush Fred and George have ever experienced at the shop. The queue was running out of the door. Perhaps everyone just now realized that summer was coming to a close and just now decided to emerge from their lazy, hazy, summer daze to enjoy the days. This, of course, made Fred miserable. 

  Instead of enjoying their time, patrons were making their lives a living hell. And for what? Amusement? What was the reason he had to get yelled at by a man because his coffee was too hot to drink? He questioned if it was possible that these people got some sort of happiness from throwing adult hissyfits and yelling at underpaid, overworked employees. Did they have some sort of odd kink? Did it fill a missing void? Whatever it was, Fred quite frankly did not want to be part of it.  

  However, when he saw that shining face in the queue, her nose buried in her book as she read so intently. She wore her hair down aside from two locks of hair tied back into a braid, secured by a light blue ribbon today. When he saw her, he froze for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way the sun burned through the dirty windows (that seemed to have fingerprint smudged permanently tattooed on it) and hit her like a golden spotlight. The way her finger absentmindedly stroked the cover of her book as she read. 

  “Excuse me,” The customer in front of him barked. He jolted back to reality. Frankly, he already was in reality since Y/N was completely gorgeous. There was no fantasy about that. She was perfect. The fantasy was that she had feelings for him or at least thought he was cute. “Did you get my order?” The man, a short, plump man with an angry red nose despite the beautiful summer day they were having, grumbled. 

  “One medium coffee. Would you like that iced or with anything in it?” Fred asked the normal questions, bracing himself for the normal response he usually received from people with certain mannerisms. 

  The man’s nose seemed to get even more red. “Of course I don’t. If I wanted it another way, I would have ordered it another way. What do I look like? An idiot? Rowena, you kids these days, needing to have things iced and sweetened. Whatever happened to the good British taste? Black coffee. That is what I want-”

  “That will be 3 sickles, Sir.” Fred read the total off, noticing how Y/N glanced up, rolling onto her tiptoes to take note of what was taking so long. He wanted to get this nasty old man out of his line so that she could get on with her day. Her day shouldn’t be wasted in this shop waiting in line. 

  “Here, keep the change.” The man basically tossed the sickles at Fred. Four sickles. 

  “Some change,” Fred whispered under his breath, putting three sickles in the till and dropping one in the communal tip jar. That naked a total of five sickles in tips. “Have a nice day, sir,” Fred faked a smile as the man waddled off to the pick-up area, barking at George to hurry up. “I can help whoever is next.” “Two people until her.” Fred thought. 

  “Hi, could we get two lemonades? Mediums please,” The teen girl giggled, eyes staring up at Fred sweetly. Fred nodded, writing the order down and sliding it along the counter. Harrison, the manager, grabbed it to start making it. “So, we’ll be seeing you at Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, right, George?” She asked with a bat of her eyelashes, still getting his name wrong despite his name tag being basically eye level with her. He could see Y/N look up from her book, snickering slightly behind her book. 

  “I’m actually Fred. And yes. That will be seven sickles today.” Fred read off their total, holding his hand out for their money. 

  “Oh, sorry. You both are so handsome, it’s hard to tell you apart.” She flirted with a wink, dropping exactly seven sickles in his hand. 

  “Have a nice day,” He nodded to them as they wandered off with linked arms to bother George. “Next please!” He just needed to take care of this one customer and then she would be at his cash. Evidently, she noticed this as she was tucking her book into her bag and pulling out her coin wallet. He watched her intently, somehow managing to take the customer’s order and recite the amount of money he needed. 

  He watched as she counted the sickles she had pulled out before pulling out two more coins before doing some math in her head. He could tell since her eyes flicked around and she used her free hand to wiggle her fingers as if counting on them. “Have a nice day.” He wasn’t even sure what that customer ordered, but he must have done it right. 

  And up stepped the person he was waiting for. Y/N stepped up with a bounce, smiling brightly at him. He wanted to faint right there. There she was, standing there and it overwhelmed him so much that his nervous system was going haywire on him. “Hi, Freddie!” She seemed to have gotten much more comfortable. She was more bubbly and talkative with him and his brother. She even started to call them by nicknames. It warmed Fred’s heart to the point it might burst. 

  “Hi, Y/N, what can I get for you today?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart and malfunctioning nervous system. He was in fight-or-flight with the secret third option: faint. 

  “Just a large iced coffee. I am trying to finish off the last book on my book club’s summer reading list and I decided I might as well change up the scenery.” She explained, her voice much more even and comfortable. Not the same reluctant, soft voice she had when she first talked to him. And if he thought that voice was beautiful, then this voice was perfect. Alluring. Charming. Cute. Marvelous. Dazzling. Delicate. Stunning. Splendid. Gorgeous. Lovely. Any synonym there was for beautiful because this voice was so much better. 

  Before he could even tell her the total, she handed him the sickles she had counted out prior to the interaction. She always did it. “Three sickles for the iced coffee and how many for the tip?” He asked, knowing exactly how she worked things. 

  “Fifteen. Five for everyone who worked today,” She smiled as she rolled up to the balls of her feet - something he found that she did often. The line was gone aside from her and part of Fred wished it would stay away so she could stand there talking to him, but unfortunately someone walked in. “I’ll leave you to it, Fred.” She smiled at him. It appeared sad and part of him hoped that she felt upset about having to part from him. 

  He watched her walk over to George who held her coffee out to her. Sharing pleasantries, she headed off to one of the many tables. Taking her normal table by the window. “Alright boys. I am heading out, I’ll be back in two hours to close it down.” Harrison told them. That was most likely the last rush of the day. People didn’t tend to frequent the coffee shop near close. They gave him nods as he left. 

  Thirty minutes and they hadn’t stopped. Anytime they saw a lull coming, once they served one customer, two more would come. Just as Fred turned his back, taking a deep breath as the attack stopped, he heard the approaching footsteps of someone. He wanted to roll his eyes and outwardly show the resentment he had felt, but he didn’t feel the same hostility he had felt with the last few customers. Part of him should have known why before he turned around, but sometimes he isn’t always on the ball. 

  As he turned around, he was pleasantly shocked to see Y/N standing there at the counter again, her head down as she inspected the wet patch on her blue sundress. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up, hand hovering over the patch on the center of her torso. “Hey, Fred, again,” She smiled, a bit awkwardly as she didn’t usually come up after she got her order unless it was to say bye to the boys (something rather new after she got comfortable with them). “Do you think I could get a napkin? That last customer who left kind of knocked into me a bit and I got the last bit of iced coffee on me-” She cut herself off as Fred reacted without thinking, grabbing the back of his brother’s black shirt and ripping it off of him.

  “Here you go, Y/N.” He handed it to her. Shocked, she took it from him. George just stood there, blinking at his brother as if he had gone completely mad. Fred considered this a sign that perhaps, working nearly every single day of the summer had made him cracked in the head. Slowly, looking at the face Y/N was making, he came back into his body. It was as if seeing Y/N in need made him go into autopilot, doing whatever he needed to to resolve the issue Y/N was facing. 

  “Fred, what in Godric's name?” George questioned, still a bit shocked that his brother completely ripped the back of his shirt off, leaving just his sleeves and the front. It was silent as the three of them all looked at each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Fred couldn’t even remember his brain telling him to do that, let alone any thought of ripping his brother’s shirt. 

  The silence was broken by the sweet giggles of Y/N. Fred nearly gave himself whiplash turning his head to look at her. There she stood, on the other side of the counter, one hand holding the tattered shreds of George’s shirt, the other one hovering over her mouth as her giggled turned into laughter, eyes crinkling closed. “Oh my Helga,” She pressed her lips together, her purely magnetic eyes opening and meeting Fred’s with a zing being sent through Fred’s body like electricity (which this summer, he discovered was pretty dangerous). “I needed that, Freddie. That guy who bumped my arm as a complete arse-” Fred blinked, that might have been the most foul he had ever heard her talk, though Hermione had told him she had said much worse about some of the guys in their year. “You know exactly what to do to make people laugh, it’s an amazing gift,” She nodded at him, a large smile hanging off her lips. “Thank you, see you at Hogwarts if I am not in next week.” She whispered as she rolled onto the balls of her feet. 

  Before Fred could react, she was pressing her lips against his cheek. Her sweet looking lips felt even sweeter against the now burning flesh of his freckled cheeks. He knew that now he felt her lips, he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about how they would feel against his own lips, but right now his brain was empty. He couldn’t function as she pulled away, heels crashing to the ground. A bashful smile stayed on her lips as she waved to the pair of them, Fred so far gone he barely even registered the fact that her lips were no longer touching him - probably due to the fact that the tingling he felt was still there.��   When he finally came back into his body again, Y/N and her bashfulness had left with her book tucked under her arm for almost five minutes. Blinking around, Fred saw the basically empty shop, the only person lingering being someone who had been there for two hours now. Looking to his side, he felt George’s “what the hell” look before he saw it. Winching, nervous about his brother’s wrath. “Sorry about the shirt, George.”

[idv-sunsxin3]

Horropedia // Car Rides

Note// Technically different scenarios of him either being a driver/passenger (with S/O)---

____

(When he's driving)

Certainly that in reality, if he ever has a car, he would be a decent driver who is less likely to get stopped by a speeding ticket. Just because he watches a ton of unhinged, tragic content, doesn’t mean it won't make him less than a decent citizen.

He had learned to keep his horror fan nature hidden away during his student life, so it would make it any less of a difference when it comes to not violating traffic laws.

Of course, he still probably talks too much for your comfort before he starts driving---

After years of being with him, you started to get used to whatever he said as his statements usually meant good. Doesn't make him less annoying at times, though./affectionate

He likes playing music in the car at a decent volume so he can hear what's outside the road, being a cautious careful driver when he has you as his passenger.

At the same time, he plays horror music in the car;;;

some are good, some are Eh... some make you wanna laugh by how nostalgically cringe it sounds, yet you tend to cover your giggles before he looks at you with weird look NDNDNDN-

The time where Michael Myers theme was played nearly killed you;;;-- Is this even a car ride???? I don't know anymore... /j

"Stop laughing- do you have any other music options?" He says with a playful frown as he keeps his eyes on the road, shaking his head when he heard your muffled giggles.

At least he lends you some freedom to take over the music radio- is not much of a big deal anyway if he's the one who should focus on the road.

It's either he would shake his head once in a while by the beat of the music you switched to, or he actually feels so done to listen to it that he wonders when it will end. He doesn't say anything about it, knowing himself./ih

There are times you would tag along with him to go to movie theaters - or sometimes to go and order any food takeout while on your way for outdoor dates.

He doesn't often use cars since he seems more like a bicycle type. Both types of transportation with him are fun when you're in the passenger seat, same for him as well. Bicycle so you can get to hold him as tight as possible from behind. Car so you would sit beside him and hand feed him pieces of the takeout as he drives whenever you go on longer trips.

I feel like if is a very careful driver, holding hands while he is driving will be a big no in his book- he'll rather do that if there's this long traffic that takes many hours to move..--- 😭😔

I mean, at least he would be very responsible when it comes to your safety in a car ride. So it's overall nice.

_

Today seems to be a movie date case.

Recently, a new movie just got released on theater. It's like 20 minutes away by car, so you both decide to use his car.

Seeing that your boyfriend finishes moving the car from the parking spot, it was your cue to enter at the passenger seat, so you open the door before closing it back.

"You're safe with me, babe! But of course, buckle up your seatbelt... Who knows, a car crash might happen by some drunk driver -"

He advices you, probably recalling the many movies he watched which displayed car accidents, even in irl TV news.

"Yes, yes..." You sigh. But before you can even buckle them yourself, you notice Horropedia leaning in as his  hands reach out to help you instead.  Adjusting the firmness of the lace. After doing that, his hands linger on your shoulders as his eyes linger on yours. Staring deep into each other as the sounds of rain tapping on glass can be heard.

He then hums, breaking his focused look into a grin before planting a shortly pressing his lips on yours before pulling away to slide back.

"Ready to go now?" He asks with a smile as he buckles his belt now. It took a moment for you to stare off at him before getting back to your senses to say yes.

_

(When he's a passenger)

You guys have seen him in the game when everyone who was in the Green Lake event was in Tooth Fairy's vehicle.

He be freaking napping by himself by the window;;;

Hey, now that he has you. He doesn't have to do that anymore. 😉/lh

He would be a very talkative passenger when he's awake, a popular opinion really--

If tablets existed, he probably wouldn't still shut up as he binge watches horror movies during the ride or horror hameplays on youtube during the ride- he'll be "Mr. commentary box" by them;;😭

Scratch that- There are portable DVD players in the 90s. Man, he watches movies using this tiny screen pad with control remote;;;

Hey, he's sweet enough to actually share the movie experience with you during the ride. He likes that he gets to sit closer to you to the point that your legs are touching. It feels awkward at first, but he seems to warm up to it later on.

He also tries to get himself busy with other ways, such as if he has horror novels to finish. Or even hold hands with you and rubbing small circles on your waist secretly when no one is watching...

but everyone finds it obvious by how loving he is to you during the ride, especially when you both unconsciously snuggle on each other in your sleep---

Can't help but imagine that when there's not enough space in the car, Horropedia tries to pretend that Blonney's suggestion of you sitting on his lap instead wasn't a big deal.

Spoilers: he is failing.. he thinks it's a big deal-

"W-What? Is that okay??.." You ask before turning to your boyfriend, looking if he has discomfort by the idea.

"I mean... I don't really mind if it's you. We have to get to the movies somehow anyway!"

He assures you while rubbing the back of his neck. Small blush appearing from his cheeks, but you couldn't see them as his face turns around before quitting going for the window seat first.

"...L-Let's embark now!"

And yes, he's completely trying not to turn red by how intimate it was for you two during the ride-

He had to hold you firmly with his arms around your torso since you're technically the one with no seatbelt. He would still be a caring boyfriend. He would once in awhile ask you if you're feeling okay when the position seems a bit uncomfortable, but he also asks so he can get distracted from this embarrassing sotuation- the girls are literally watching you both, it's unbearable;;;/lh

In the end, he would began to become more comfortable when you sit on his lap. It's so comfy when he gets to hold you by the soft fabric of your indoor clothes -  well, only when no one is watching you two more than necessary -

.

.

I'm not done here-

___

//Horropedia ordering at a drive thru with s/o.

If you don't eat any of these, just imagine it/ih

Horropedia, but with that "Burger King with my burger queen" vine whenever the Burger King scenario happens - someone plz save me. How did I even know this/ih

McDonald's drive thru would be silly - would buy you a happy meal (if you ask), hamburgers, lots of french fries, one soda cup as he orders the McCafe/lh

Doesn't usually order a lot unless he decides to spend a vacation binge watching in his room---;;;

I feel like he is more like the coffee shop customer type - probably a Starbucks fan, even since he is such a coffee lover according to his voiceline/ih. Except he doesn't drink it with ice(what a smart chad.)

If he wasn't sitting, you could tell how his nonexistent tail wags whenever you hand feed him as he drives back home.

[merci-bitch]

loved your Charlize characters things, but can’t you do somewhat the same with some of Meryl’s characters? Like how they are to live with or something

Thanks ! And sure, should be fun! Seems a bit short but oh well, haha

Not my gifs!

Miranda Priestly

- Well

- She’s tough

- She’s a perfectionist at best

- Her house is very clean

- Even for having two near teenage girls

- She has a nanny for her girls who also cooks for them when she isn’t able

- Although I don’t think Miranda is the biggest cook, I do think she knows how to do it

- Her townhouse is MASSIVE

- 3 stories

- So many rooms

- You still get a little lost sometimes

- Not surprising though, there’s so many doors

- But Miranda wouldn’t be too bad to live with

- Unless she’s stressed and in one of those terrible moods

- She can be quite poisonous in her mouth

- Very critical

- You know not to fuel it at the worst times

- But you still like to pick at her

- Teaser

- 😌

Donna Sheridan

- She’s so fun

- You, Sophie and her are dream team

- You were a painter , a local, and had known Donna for years, since Sophie was little

- You helped Sophie become good at drawing and painting

- And you just became a part of their little family

- Although Donna and Sophie still spend a lot of thing alone together, you don’t mind

- Dancing and singing all the time obvs

- You help Donna around the island, help her with renovating the hotel

- You remind her to take one day at a time

- You’ve painted the hotel a number of times, painted Donna and Sophie

- She loves it

- You have a lot of fun

- Sophie and you always team up against Donna

- Play little pranks on her

- When Sophie was younger, you’d tell her stories about the world and paint an image of what her world might look like

- The love Donna has for her daughter is so beautiful

- Donna often worries about how empty she will feel once Sophie leaves

- If she does

Jane Adler

- Oh my god

- You are her experiment bunny for her new recipes

- She always tests new things in the kitchen

- And you are her critic for tasting

- She loves you dearly

- She loves how well you get on with her kids

- She was worried about the slight age gap

- How her children would react

- But they love you

- You’re a little older than her oldest

- So she doesn’t fell that bad, but still it’s different

- She kicks you out of the house when she has her dinner parties with her girls friends

- She gossips about you to them obvs

- One of her friends always tries to get her to talk about you in the bed

- Because Jane suddenly has so much energy she bakes three pies for one night

- Jane just smirks and doesn’t say a word

- Whenever Jane can’t sleep, she makes ice cream so your freezer is FILLED with ice cream

- You are left to eat it

- Not that you’re complaining, it’s the best thing ever

- Many late nights up

- Watching movies

- Taking baths together

- Getting high accidentally together

- That’s some funny shit

- Really

- She accidentally bought pot brownies

- The most hilarious thing ever HAHAH

- If you look away from the whole plot of the movie, but still stay on track

- She never slept with Jack

- She slept with you weeks before and you became a thing

- You filled the empty house with your laughter and her own and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore

The Witch

- Well this is difficult

- Because you don’t technically “live” together

- And you’re not really together together either

- But when the plot happens, and she turn’s beautiful again

- Suddenly something happens

- You find yourself attracted to the witch you were told to fear

- She knows

- Of course she knows

- She enjoys feeling attractive, longed for, and everything once again

- When the big lady giant comes down from the sky, and she loses her daughter she seeks you

- Not for comfort

- But to release pent up anger for Rapunzel

- She knows she’ll come back

- Of course she will

- But seeing you tremble before her is too good to just let pass by

- So you become her little thing

- And then when the plot continues

- You were a friend of the bakers

- Everyone goes against the witch except you

- And oh how she enjoys it

- She’s seducing you

- She knows she doesn’t love you

- She loves her daughter

- But you’re a good distraction

- In the middle of all chaos she finds you by a tree as she’s looking for the boy

- Sneaks up on you

- Has a little fun riling you up only to be caught by the bakers and everyone else

- Whoops

- Your little secret is out

- Last Midnight

- And suddenly she’s gone

[murdleandmarot]

Can you info dump about bluebelle, I’m very curious about her :3

SORRY THIS TOOK A HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS I WANTED IT TO BE PERFECT

Hi hello!!!!! I will very gladly talk about Bluebelle, she’s the love of my life forever :D 💙💙💙💙💙

Important note: I’m a very um dramatic person when it comes to creating oc backstories. I am nothing if not a little bit pretentious, and giving ocs weird and angsty backstories is my passion project, and that’s part of the reason it took so long to collect my thoughts, and come up with something concrete, (or as concrete as possible)

I’ll start with facts about her that I like and then backstory regarding the fabled music box :))

-her design/colors are based off of a stuffed animal I bought in Munich :)

-the songs I most associate with her, (I have a playlist because I wanted one), are probably A Dangerous Thing/Everything Matters by AURORA, The Sugar Plum Fairy from the Nutcracker, and I came to your party dressed as a shadow. Adore those songs

-the only jellicles that she has met, (by choice), are Victoria, Misto, Plato, and Demeter. Or rather, Demeter knows of her, but Bluebelle doesn’t know Demeter

-this is mostly bc she’s pretty paranoid about meeting new people, and prefers to stick to her people. It took her a while to warm up to Plato, but eventually she got used to him

-this is also despite Vicci’s best efforts to convince Bluebelle to at the very least meet Jemima

-SPEAKING OF JEMIMA, if you haven’t heard, here’s my little jellicle magic theory: The cat’s magic relates to their eyes, just vaguely. Jemima and Misto each have white eyes, and you may have noticed, Bluebelle has those eyes as well. Because she’s. Blue. And that’s not a typical cat color, I figured I should just run with it. I see Bluebelle’s magic as a combination of Jemima and Victoria! Yes, Victoria is magic to me and that’s not just because she’s lovely and beautiful, but because of the way she uses the music in the show, and the way some productions seem to use her as a metaphor for the Jellicle moon, relating it to her dancing. This is especially true for me when I hc Vicci as deaf, because it implies some sort of magic when her solo syncs with the music. Bluebelle has the same sort of music and dance magic as Victoria, and the same sort of eerie unearthly-ness of Jemima. Basically I combined all my favorite girlies into one and made her <33

Really incoherent n convoluted story under the cut lolllll

I’ve always imagined the music box has something Bluebelle has had since she was very young, as in some of her earliest memories are of the tune it plays. Her mother probably gave it to her before both of her parents disappeared like they were in a Disney movie. The point is that it’s one of her favorite things, and she loves dancing to it. Victoria loves the song as well, and they sometimes practice using the music box, and things continue as so until Misto appears, and starts practicing with them.

Because Misto insists that no music is coming out of the music box. He can’t hear a single note.

Neither can Plato, or any of the other jellicles, when Victoria borrows it, and plays the song for everyone else in the junkyard, (Bluebelle doesn’t go with her-she’d rather not meet the others, for fear they won’t like her, or will tell Victoria to stop visiting her).

No one else can hear the music. No one except, of course, for Jemima and the psychic twins.

Bluebelle starts to ask around town, playing it for different cats, until she finds an older tom, not far, though she doesn’t know it, from the Junkyard.

He can’t hear the music box of course, but he tells her that he’s bit of a collector of magical artifacts. Perhaps he’ll have something similar in his collection.

Would she like to take a look?

Bluebelle declines. Declines at least, to visit him on this night. She hands him the music box, and instructs him to take it back to his den, and look for himself. They will meet in the same place the next day, and if he cannot find anything, then she will go and see for herself.

The next morning, they meet again. He tells her that he’s sorry, he couldn’t find anything that matched the box, and that in his haste to meet her on time, he’d left the box behind. The tomcat invites her to his den, and again, she declines, saying she will visit on a later date, that she already has plans.

Bluebelle follows him home, and hides in wait. She watches as his friends gather to scheme, and doesn’t notice the staring of a golden queen hanging off the arm of a blood orange tom.

The acquaintances leave, and the old cat retires to his den. The fire is almost out, leaving her to sneak into the other tent.

…blood seeps from every item in the cramped space, leaving it to drip from the walls and stain the ground scarlet.

He is not only a collector of magical artifacts, but a collector of queens, as well. The music box is the only thing unmarred by the red, so she steals it back.

She swears she can hear him howling the whole trip.

Bluebelle doesn’t tell Victoria what happens. She tells her to steer clear of the cat who could very be Bluebelle’s father, with a coat as vibrant as the sea, and Victoria doesn’t ask any questions.

Bluebelle doesn’t want to meet any of the other jellicles after that. She barely wants to talk to anyone ever again, with the exception of the few cats she already knows.

She and Victoria still dance to the music box though. Misto tries to follow along.

[bajibitch]

Working with them in retail.

Mitsuya, Haruchiyo, Muto, Ran, Manjiro, and Souya

❀Mitsuya❀

It’s easy for him to get the position of a manager because he’s patient, understanding, and overall good at his job. He’s fine with your questions and doesn’t mind you going to him for help. If you don’t ask him things, he’ll check on you every once in a while.

When customers are upset just send them his way. He’s able to keep his composure and can handle whatever they try to throw at him. Even if you did make a mistake he doesn’t let them treat you horribly. Things happen and you’re human.

��Haruchiyo❀

He’s there to make money, not friends. He doesn’t go out of his way to be rude, but he makes it clear that he doesn’t want you interrupting his work. Don’t talk his ear off while he’s stocking because he’ll report you. Since he’s been there longer, punctual, and a great worker, you’ll be fired if he goes to them more than once. Try talking to him when he’s on break.

If you annoy him while he’s at work he doesn’t help you out when a customer is upset. He finds amusement in your tears and frustration. It doesn’t help that his laugh can be heard from the other aisle. If you’re respectful of his boundaries he’ll ask the customer what they’re trying to do and take it from there.

❀Muto❀

Due to his stocky build, and how his coworkers act around him, the customers assume he's the manager. Even if they’re upset they avoid escalating the problem because of his stern resting face. His boss offers him the role of a manager but he refuses to take it. Muto doesn't want all the responsibilities that come with it. He wants to clock in and out.

He isn't social at first, but he gradually gets used to having conversations with you. He isn't shy, he just didn't think he’d like any of his coworkers.

❀Ran❀

He wants the job, it's easy, and the pay is good compared to the stores around him. The customers are the only setback. As a cashier, it‘s impossible to avoid rude, entitled people and he isn't one to persevere and let them say anything they want. And the customers hate that. He turns off his light when they start getting an attitude and tells them to go to the next lane, but if he’s the only cashier, he’ll just refuse to check them out even after they apologize.

He can be chatty, but he can take a hint. If you aren’t in the mood for it he’ll stop, but that never happens because he is unintentionally a gossip boy. He isn’t afraid of his coworkers hearing him spread their secrets or embarrassing moments. After seeing others fail to shut him up, they just take it in stride.

❀Manjiro❀

He doesn’t talk to anyone. The only time he’s speaking is when a customer asks for help. They’re nice to him because he looks younger than his actual age, but sometimes he does encounter rude ones. Rather than kick them into their graves, he just walks away and gets back to stocking. They can find someone who cares.

Please don’t try to talk to him. He isn’t gonna budge and he’s not taking food from you since he doesn’t know you. After the umpteenth time, he’ll be brutally honest and say the thought of being friends with a coworker doesn’t excite him. He’ll mention how he finds it irritating when you refuse to accept that not everyone wants to be your friend. Your stories of home make playing in traffic seem fun.

❀Souya❀

He's on his phone if it's a slow day since it means he won't have a lot of customers to check out. He doesn't mind if you want to chat, he loves talking about current movies and giving you new things to watch. His favorite thing to do is debate on which character was the strongest or fucked up. It never ends up being a serious debate, it’s all fun and games.

After dealing with his brothers, there’s nothing any customer can say that hurts him. With all the back and forth through the years, he knows how to end the arguments. It’s entertaining and cool how he treats it like a game, he’s often caught with a little smile on his face after the altercations.

Since you’re his new friend, he isn’t gonna let them talk to you any kind of way. Even if it happens to be your manager. He doesn’t care for the saying, I can’t stand up for you unless you do it yourself. People get inspired and find their voice when they see that they have someone in their corner.