#in case anyone was wondering i rarely listen to music these days

[fictionadventurer]

Nine (or so) People You'd Like To Get To Know

Tagged by@batmantaking-hobbits2gallifrey Thank you!

Last Song I Listened To: "Luck Be a Lady" was stuck in my head

Currently Watching: Occasional Star Trek episodes. Last one was a DS9 episode ("Dr. Bashir, I Presume")

Currently Reading: Aside from what I mentioned earlier, I'm reading The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery and Thief Liar Lady by D.L. Soria

Current Obsession: 19th-century American political history (a lot of Civil War, but with a shift to the 1880s over the past few days), minor obsession with crossword puzzles

Tagging: @cuppatealove, @lady-merian, @theamiableanachronism, @lover-of-the-starkindler, @awesomebutunpractical, @thatscarletflycatcher, @teabooksandsweets, @incomingalbatross, @idratherdreamofjune

[silent-sanctum]

If you can, you do Jotaro x reader where the reader (gender neutral) is a very famous music celebrity and how Jotaro handles the being with someone who is famous with their daughter Jolyne in their life as well. Love your work and hope everything is good with you 🩷

Thank you anon! 💖 Kinda stressing out over paperwork over here but it's all good nonetheless! 🫡 You're request is heard and I hope I did your request justice with this short fic. Hope you enjoy! ♡

My Universe - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 2.2k

One of the perks of having your spouse be a famous global soloist, is having a kid with them and have said child be their number one fan if Jotaro wasn’t already.

Sure, he may not necessarily like all the discography you put out for your fans, but that’s normal for anyone. You did mostly pop with some R&B on the side, and he was more of a jazz man himself. But he did have his personal playlist of favorite tracks he’d listen to time to time on repeat.

But Jolyne was on a different level than he was- she adored you off-screen and on-screen. If you were at home or at least around her, she’d have a field trip being with her idol: She’d get her hands on every merchandise that’s yet to be released, listen to songs yet to be heard, and get special access to VIP areas only meant for artists.

How about the time spend with Jotaro?

Well, aside from musing your daughter with all the perks and love from a celebrity guardian, there were times you left Jolyne with her own bodyguard and babysitter, and used the free time to roam the city with your husband and do whatever they wanted to do.

Initially, your personal life was kept secret from the world, choosing to separate and not involve it with the life of stardom. And that was still the case back when you and Jotaro were still dating. You posted a lot on your social media, mostly pictures of your “selcas”, outfits-of-the-day, food items, behind-the-scenes special from your stages, nature shots, and pictures with fellow celebrity friends.

Once in a blue moon, your fans would blow up social media whenever you decided to be ballsy and post pictures of you with Jotaro, his face hidden thanks to his hat and mask. The content of the image was relatively tame and “neutral”, but given the context behind these pictures- the intimate proximity of the two, the matching color palette clothes, the rare posting of him in general- might as well made your fan base theorists.

“Boyfriend reveal when????”

“Bestie, please share the tea to the world”

“Hello? The couple fits?? The cute poses??? Call me delulu but-”

“All of you are being weirdos. Stop invading their privacy”

“Yeah the dude could be her cousin or brother or something”

“Girl they be dropping these lovey-dovey ass pics and still wonder why we’re this delusional”

“Uhm cousin?? Brother?? With those pictures? Weird but pop-off ig”

You’d receive many posts of similar flavor all over your timelines and you admitted to liking whenever your fans talk about the love of your life as if it’s a conspiracy theory and most of them coming from a supportive mindset. It irked Jotaro for a moment when said community managed to somehow track both his formal account used to document his research findings, and his private social media account where he posted pictures of scenery similar to yours.

But there were the rational handful who were able to veer them off his ass, dismissing their claims as false despite hitting the nail on the spot.

Eventually, once you shifted to a more flexible and lenient agency, you decided to reveal to the world that the popular music icon was engaged and to be married the next week all through a single image of your hand brandishing a ring on your ring finger with a bride emoji as its caption.

“GOOD MORNING???”

“MARRIAGE?!!”

“THEY IS GETTING MARRIED YALL”

“And yall called us crazy for saying they had a boyfriend all this time”

“We boutta get Papa Star amongst us”

The fans and the general public went wild and aside from the obsessive ones, most of your community sent their support.

Despite your relationship now public to everyone, Jotaro still wanted to keep himself mostly anonymous to the news. So whatever images were taken with him in it was blurred out with the default blur effect or an emoji sticker- a “star” one to be specific-covering his face whenever it was shared among fans.

The community erupted with loud awes and cheers when you announced to the world that you were going to have a baby girl in the family in one of your interviews.

“OMG???”

“Alright baby protectors, it’s our time to RISE”

“Much love to the little onee”

“I will defend this child with my life.”

“Shooters for baby girl where yall at?”

“Oh she bout to be the luckiest mfer with all the merch exclusives”

Years later, Jolyne grew up to be her parent’s number one fan, doing exactly what your fanbase had thought of when she’d grow older.

Going back to the present, you found yourself stuck knee-deep in your career doing a sold-out world tour, performing for thousands of cheering people in cities across the world. This wasn’t your first tour and you’ve found a decent routine to follow when doing so, but this year was a first for you.

You expressed both in social media posts and in interviews that burnout began to hit you full-time and a multitude of nagging negativity clouded your head as you kept up with all the schedules, production, and practice sessions for majority of the year. You’ve been so busy that time spent with your family this year was little to none. You constantly shared that hopefully sometime in the middle of promotions, you could return home to your family.

Jolyne felt it watching you through the screen. Jotaro felt it too.

All of them missed you and he wanted to do something about it for once.

By the time September came, your world tour came to a close with one last concert to be done in the Rose Bowl Stadium in California. Both him and Jolyne were never able to attend to any of your concerts due to work and school, but timing was in their favor for once and he made the most of the opportunity.

He got into contact with your manager, someone he became close acquaintances with, and notified of them coming over to watch your show. At first, Jotaro just wanted to be there with your daughter in tow, but the manager and a couple of the crew members in-charge of the set list had different plans.

He agreed to it.

With the VIP tickets secured and their booth ready for them, Jotaro and Jolyne flew across the States with eager anticipation and excitement, the latter mostly radiating off from the little girl.

Eventually, the day of the concert arrived and your daughter couldn’t contain herself from running about, unable to wait any longer for her to watch her other parent sing and dance live for the first time. During the day, rehearsals were done before the show proper and a handful of lucky fans were able to watch it.

Thanks to a streamer fan’s dedication and generosity, Jolyne was able to watch you walk about the stage in cozy casuals interacting with your community through a live stream in her phone. From time to time in the middle of preparing things needed for a concert, Jotaro would tune in as well, happy to see you even if it was from a live feed.

Hours later, he rented a car nearby and drove both of them to the beaming stadium, teemed with cheering crowds of fans falling in line either to enter the venue or to purchase on-site merchandise. On the lampposts and the walls were banners of you welcoming everyone to the event.

To avoid getting mobbed, both father and daughter kept themselves hidden from any passing person with a hat and mask as they walked across the area to the stadium’s entrance. To everyone else, they might as well be an ordinary dad-and-daughter duo who were also fans of their favorite artist.

Jotaro followed the instructions sent to him by your manager and headed off to a more discreet entrance where they didn’t have to worry about any lines or people complaining of why they get to enter first and not them. A guard stationed by waved them inside and led the family into their seats overlooking the brightly lit stage. Before the platform were thousands of light sticks waving in the dark, belonging to the fans singing to songs being played as they waited for you to start.

Beside him, Jolyne sang along with enthusiasm, shaking her own personalized light stick to the beat of the music. He would do the same in an alternate universe, but here it just wasn’t his thing.

After a few minutes, the music faded off into silence and the lights dimmed until the stage cast the whole venue in darkness. The crowds cheered and many miniature lights shook in the night. The speakers suddenly blared a remix of one of your title tracks and the jumbo screens flashed to show a VCR containing a mashup of you in a concept film, introducing your theme as a music artist to your audience.

Then as the dancers brought in the energy with their entrance, the stadium exploded with excited screams as you rose up from the below and walked to the front, passing by your back-up dancers until you stood in front of everyone. A second after you greeted the crowd, you switched demeanor and joined the others in choreography.

Jotaro couldn’t help but smile and clap by the time you finished your introductory performance, contrasted by his daughter’s loud screams. He watched wistfully at you speaking with the audience, sweating from all the dance and singing.

It truly was something different watching you live versus watching a live broadcast from home. You’re so near and yet so far from him.

And so far, the rest of the evening was spent like this with you; the beloved soloist performing many of their hit songs ranging from hard hitting beats with impressive dance routines to soothing ballads that had you simply sitting on a fancy stage prop all dolled-up to match the aesthetic of the songs.

Jolyne never pried her eyes away from her other parent, always focused on you and making sure she sung, danced, and responded to your every questions with the devotion of a true, hardcore fan.

By the time the concert was near its end, you were standing in front of the crowd in a cozy outfit akin to the aesthetics of a person living in a humble cabin in the woods. Supposedly, this segment was supposed to be for when you brought up a box of mixed Q&A and dares for you to do.

However, as you said that you were about to start with the bit, the screens beside you changed from showing an arcade-esque “Break Time with Y/N” to a simple “You have special guests watching you”.

Out of the blue, spotlights turned to Jotaro and Jolyne’s booth and there they were- clear as day on the jumbo screens. Everyone cheered yet again as their way of greeting their favorite artist’s family. And even as Jotaro froze on spot, tipping his hat over his eyes as he offered a small wave, his little girl beamed and waved her light stick at the camera.

“I’m here! Hello!”

Jotaro, from what he could see from under his hat, fixed his gaze on the other jumbo screen where it showed your reaction to the surprise- you were crouched on stage, one hand waving at your child, while the other covered your mouth as he saw tears well up in your eyes.

You didn’t expect them to be at your closing concert but seeing your family present was enough for you to break character and fixate on the loves of your life. “Ah really, you guys…”

In response to your happy tears, the crowd cried out a nearly-synchronized “don’t cry!” prompting you to let out a wet chuckle and sniffle.

It occurred to him that he could do something while the cameras were on them. He reached for his phone from his coat pockets and with a few taps, he showed the screen to everyone- a mobile digital message with the words scrolling across the black screen in neon yellow:

Congratulations on your successful world tour. We love you <3

“Ah! You’re gonna make me cry again!” You said, whining as you swiped your eyes free from the new batch of tears ready to fall. He chuckled back. “Everyone, that’s my husband and baby girl. I love them and the fact that they’re here makes me the happiest person right now.” The crowd cooed.

“Now that they’re here, I’m all the more charged up to perform for everyone!” You said and the stadium cheered in response. With one more long look at your family watching from their booth, you continued. “Hope you all enjoy the rest of this night as much as I am enjoying right now.”

With Jolyne’s suggestion via a whisper, Jotaro turned to his phone and changed the message one more time before the camera diverted away from them. This the message scrolled by in neon green saying:

Let’s celebrate! Let’s eat out later! Our daughter is starving.

Your fans expressed a mix of laughter and wholesome “aw’s”. In turn, you smiled and with both hands grasping your microphone, you replied back to them with a curt yet loving, “Of course. My treat.”

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

Returnal: Summer

Two Weeks of Hitsuhina 2024: Day 5 - Go with the Clouds / Hobbies

Rating: K/General

Setting: between the ten-year time-skip and No Breath from Hell oneshot.

Synopsis: While visiting a town in the World of the Living with Toshiro, Momo begins to have a strange feeling she’s been there before.

AN: this has been a stop-start fic since March of this year. It first came to me when I happened to be listening to World #07 Blues from the DiamondDust Rebellion OST (YT | Spotify) and looked at the clouds towering high in the sky on the horizon (in scientific terms, the formation is referred to as a cumulus congestus cloud… yes I looked it up in case anyone was curious XD). Since then, I was struggling to figure out what this fic was going to be about, because it felt like there was more to it than Momo and Toshiro have a day off int he World of the Living.

It didn’t really crystalise until I was thinking on the theme 'go with the clouds' and I figured out why Momo was feeling the way she was about the town.

A few notes before we begins:

In terms of what they’re wearing in this fic, imagine whatever you want, but I saw Toshiro in the Black Hole Disco attire (not with the headphones and wearing a pair of three quarter pants instead, but yes, he’s wearing the bucket hat), and Momo is in the outfit on the left here and her hair done up in a side ponytail

A shoutengai is a type of shopping district in Japan. It can be considered a market of sorts, where you can buy the usual things you’d find at marketplaces like groceries, meals and snacks, cosmetics, clothes, housewares and more. They vary in size from town to town, but regardless they can also host big social events like festivals. Most of my research for this came talking about them with a friend who’s been to Japan and from quick google searches. If I got anything inaccurate, please let me know so I can fix it.

The rats Hitsugaya mentions are the Ryukyu long-tailed giant rat. It’s a rodent native to Japan, specifically the Ryukyu Islands and it has long hairs that look like spikes.

The cup mentioned in this fic is here.

Momo is acting out of character at certain points, and is harsh at one point, This is deliberate, and I hope it makes sense why this is the case as you read along.

If I had to recommend any music to listen to, anything from the Clannad anime soundtrack will work.

I hope you all enjoy this one!

__________________________________

The sun bears down on the back of Hitsugaya’s neck. He tilts the brim of his hat back to shade it, and despite the heat, he’s not experiencing the usual sluggishness that comes with the summer weather.

Regardless, the action gets Hinamori's attention. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he assures.

“It’s not far,” she encourages, gesturing to the buildings ahead of them on the horizon. “I wonder why the senkaimon dropped us off here? I thought it would be near one of the shrines.”

He shrugs. “It’s probably an old pathway. There might have been a shrine here once but it’s been lost to time. We’ll have to make a note to Twelfth Division when we get back”

She only nods, then continues towards the town. He doesn’t immediately follow.

The senkaimon had taken them to the outskirts, and he might have complained if not for the view and scenery it offers them. Aside from the sidewalks bordering either ride of the road, the powerlines coming down the hill and going into the town, there’s no other human-made structures out here. They’re on a flat plane in a valley, with flowers and tall grass on either side of the road. Bordering the area in far distance are hills and mountains, and towering high above them are clouds that slowly move across the sky.

Save for the few cars that have passed them, their shoes scraping along the footpath, and the swaying grass, it’s quiet. There’s a peacefulness here that is rare in most places he’s been to in the World of the Living.

He looks back to Hinamori, watching the ends of her skirt flutter in the wind and her cloth bag jostle around her shoulder. Out of everything, however, it the purposefulness in her strides that catches his attention the most.

“Why here?” he’d asked when she’d shown him pictures of the town on her denreishinki.

She’d given a small shrug, but her gaze never left the images. “I just thought it looks like a nice town to visit. I didn’t want to go somewhere too cold or hot, and I didn’t feel like going to a city. It's built up, but it also has a lot of nature. Maybe we could go for a walk there or do some shopping?"

There was something about her in that moment. She wasn’t being dishonest, but she hadn’t told him the whole truth, maybe even didn’t realise there was more to her choice than she knew. As if an unconscious force made her pick this place for their visit.

He brushes the thought aside for now, catching up to her and taking in the serenity around them.

_________________________________

It’s that feeling again. Something clinging to the edge of her heart, and fluttering at the back of her mind, hazy and out of reach.

Hinamori can’t decide if she should be perplexed by it or find it uncomfortable. It had started when she’d been searching for places she and Hitsugaya could visit for their day trip. More specifically, when this town showed up more than once as a recommended day trip destination.

The feeling intensifies now that they walk down the town’s main street. She tries to focus on her surroundings, taking in the architecture of the buildings around her. They’re mostly modern, but occasionally there’s a building that’s out of place, as if transported from another time. They’re well maintained, with obvious repaired having been made to their roofs or walls, but still maintaining their traditional look. They remind her of the buildings in the Junrinan’s business district.

There aren’t a lot of people around to considering it 'bustling', but there's enoguh to make her think the town isn't as small as one might assume based on the maps and pictures she'd seen. There’s a few residents that even have their pets with them, either carrying them or keeping them on leash.

“Look at that dog, Shiro-chan!” Hinamori quietly gushes when she spots a small, white Japanese Spitz with it’s owner across the street. “It’s so fluffy!”

Hitsugaya only snorts and watches the dog trot down the footpath.

“…You know, it kind of looks liked you.”

He lets out a strangled sound which briefly catches the attention of a few around them. “How?!”

“Well, it’s fur looks like your hair, it’s got a very determined stride, and…” She raises a hand to her lips, stifling a giggle and covering the teasing smile curling her lips.

He glares at her, even as blush faintly colors his cheeks. “We didn’t come here for you to compare me to a dog.”

“No, I suppose we didn’t.” She fishes out her denreishinki from her pocket, bringing up the map of the main and connecting streets. “Come on, lets go find the shoutengai.”

 There are a few in this town, but the one that’d been recommend on a several Human websites she’d browsed through was the biggest of them all. It’s home to the usual types of shops, like clothing and homeware stores, but also obscure places like a tiny café that has hedgehog-themed food and beverages, a bookstore selling rare novels and collectables, and a confectionery shop with candies in all sorts of shapes and sizes and flavors.

It's several minutes later when they come across it. It’s hard to miss with the crowd gathered within and the different colored lanterns swaying beneath the shoutengai sign.

Hinamori stops before they cross the street to it’s entrance. “You sure about this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I know you’re not a fan crowds, so…”

He shrugs. “It's not like we're staying here the whole time."

She smiles in gratitude. “Okay.” Even so, she can’t help but offer, “After this, we can go wherever you want.”

“There's that walking trail you mentioned before, I guess.” Before she can agree to it, he walks past her. “Come on.”

Crossing the street, they manoeuvre their way through the crowds in front until they’re inside. When they enter, Hinamori has to stop to take it all in.

Above them is a semi-circular glass roof, and hanging from it and the beams dotted every several meters are lanterns. Beneath them are smaller signs for all the store and stall within the alleyway. Despite the crowds packing the district, there’s an airy feel to the place. Something lively and cheerful. She grins, finally knowing she made the right decision to come here.

She grabs Hitsugaya’s wrist, and while he lets out a surprised grunt, she points to the nearby candy store, “I saw that one in the blogs! Let’s go check it out.”

They didn’t stay in the store long, with Hinamori buying several bags of sweets for Women’s Association members – Nanao had been keen for everyone to get ideas for their next event, maybe making and selling sweets might inspire them, Hinamori reasoned to herself – and for her captain – he likely misses treats from the World of the Living, she further reasoned.

Hitsugaya stays close as they wonder from store to store. A part of her wishes he’d peel off and go look at something himself, but he’s never been much of a shopper.

From there, she peruses all the store fronts, ducking in when something catches her eye. When she comes upon the hedgehog-themed café, it takes everything in her – and Hitsugaya's small lecture about saving funds – to not buy several of the hedgehog-shaped foods or pay to pet one of the hedgehogs there.

“I’m surprised,” he mutters when they leave.

She lets out a nervous laugh. “At least I only got one thing.” Said thing is packet of two cookies, stowed away with the other candies.

“Not that.” He shakes his head. “Since when have you liked those sorts of creatures? You used to run from the spiny rats in the Junrinan.”

“That was different! Besides…I was younger then, I didn’t know they were harmless.” She turns back to the front windows of the café, watching the Humans hold and pet the tiny creatures. “Besides, those little guys wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“They literally have spikes!”

“Sounds like you are the one scared of them, Shiro-chan.”

“I am not!”

She laughs at his outrage. “You know, I think they remind me of you too.”

With a loud grumble, he stalks ahead of her. “I’m going to the bookstore.”

"You mean the one we were in before?"

"No, the other one."

That makes her stop. “There was a bookstore?”

He spins on his heel, and when he notices her surprise, his embarrassment turns to teasing. “How did you miss it?”

“You should’ve pointed it out to me!”

He shrugs. “Well, I’m going there. You’ll have to find it yourself.”

She blinks at his audacity, then scrambles to catch up to him. “Hey, wait up!”

She avoids bumping into Humans while trying not to lose sight of him. When a couple comes in front, she has to skid to a stop.

“Ah, sorry!” she quickly apologises, before going around them. Hitsugaya is gone. She sighs wearily. Well, at least he decided to go somewhere on his own.

Deciding to join him later, Hinamori wonders from shop to shop. She comes to another homemade housewares store a few minutes later, browsing the shelves at the front packed with cutlery and ceramics, varying in shapes and designs. She thought to buy a new cup for herself, something different from what she typically found in the Soul Society. When her eyes fall on a black and blue cup, another idea comes to mind.

It’s not his birthday yet, she thinks, and I don’t really have an occasion to give this to him anytime soon. Still…

She picks the cup up, turning it around in her hands. It’s mostly black, but there’s a shiny sliver of the brown clay at the base and blue colors the inside and covers the rim, as if water were spilling out over the lip. It’s the perfect size for tea and light in weight despite the sturdy construction.

The price tag makes her purse her lips, but after a beat, she walks into the store and straight to the cashier before she changes her mind.

Maybe I can wait until his birthday? she wonders after coming out of the store, bag now a bit heavier with the boxed up purchase. It’s only five months away, it’s not too long of a wait, right? It’ll save me having too…

A painting displayed on an easel catches her eye. It makes her come to a complete stop in the middle of the arcade, with Humans wondering around her none the wiser to the shock that thrums through her. She can’t understand this reaction, and that feeling that’d been lingering rushes forward like a tidal wave crashing up against the walls of her mind.

With slow steps, she treads to the painting. She barely registers that it’s a part of a small stall belonging to an artist, with several other paintings on display. She only sees the landscape rendered in muted acrylic paints. There’s a forest, with trees to thin but so tall they obscure the clouded sky. At the base of the trunks is a rocky bank, with stones colored brown and grey, and a small ring of dirt separated it from the green grass and flora of flowers and shrubs. The lake lapping at the bank is a pale blue-grey.

However, she’s seen that lake with her own eyes so many times, knows that it's actually a brighter, more vibrant blue. But how can she?

 _________________________________

Hitsugaya walks out of the bookstore, a parcel in one hand and with his brow furrowed deeply. He’d expected Hinamori to follow him; she never misses the chance to visit a bookstore whenever they go out. Then again, she rarely gets to visit the World of the Living and she always gets caught up in the sights and sounds she’s never experienced before.

Hitsugaya will never admit he likes seeing her like this. This peace the Seireitei has been experiencing for the past eleven years allows her to be happy again without worry or restraint. Yes there had been the few strange moments before and during this trip, but seeing her in the stores gleefully browsing and picking up things to decide if she should buy them or not, even watching her debate whether or not she wanted to pet a hedgehog, it’s a balm for the part of him still unable to let go of what happened over ten years ago.

He scans the district, first to the left towards the exit, then to the right. He puts his hat back on and begins walking the way he’d come before leaving her. Worst case scenario, he can call her denreishinki and meet up at the strange café again. Proving to himself that she can be happy, that he can be happy, as times goes on.

He glances down at the parcel. It has string wrapped around it and tied off in a bow with a tag dangling from one of the ends.

She’s going to want to know about it. It’s rare for him to buy anything on any shopping venture he goes on. I could give it to her now and make the apology. He glances at the Humans around him. No, not here. When we go on the walk.

Through the crowds, Hinamori's profile into view. He makes his way to her, but the closer he approaches, the clearer her expression becomes and the quicker his steps get. She clutches the straps of her bag tightly, and her widened eyes stare at a painting. The furrow in her brow, something caught between distress and confusion, makes him surge forward, bumping into Humans without care.

Someone approaches her, however, knocking her out of this state. He forces himself to a stop, well within her view. Still, she focuses on the stranger as she raises her hand in reassurance and offers a wobbly smile. The Human – the artist of the painting, Hitsugaya assumes – bows her head, and again, Hinamori waves her hand and says something. They speak for a moment, and at one point Hinamori points a trembling hand at the painting.

He finally catches her eyes when he takes slower steps towards her. Hinamori visibly relaxes when their gazes meet.

“Ah, here’s my friend now. I better get going!” She bows to the artist. “Sorry again, I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

“Oh, no, you didn’t! I was worried my painting had affected you somehow.”

“No, really, it was fine. Thank you for telling me about it.” Then, a bit too quickly, she leaves.

“What was that all –?” She walks past without so much as glancing at him. It only alarms him more. He catches up to her in a few steps and grabs her wrist, forcing her to stop. “Hinamori?”

She doesn’t look at him, staring ahead at the exit. After a shaky breath, she lowers her head, her bangs falling over her temples. “Can we leave? I need to get some air.”

He loosens his grip. “Yeah, sure.”

They make their way out, ending up on a quieter street. He lets her lead the way, taking a short walk through a park. He thinks to speak, to ask about what happened back there, but he waits, knowing she’ll bring up in her own time.

By the time they get to the other side of the park, where a road curves down a hill lined with building on their side and giving them a view of a forest sprawled out below. She opens her mouth, but closes it and presses her lips into a thin line.

“Looked like you were affected by that painting,” he offers.

Again she hesitates, but after a shake of her head, she says, “Yeah. It sounds crazy, but I’ve made a drawing of the place in that painting.”

His brow furrows. “Huh?"

“The thing is…I don’t know where that place is.”

“What?”

They’d been walking down the incline, and she brings them to a stop. “Remember when we were in the Junrinan I started drawing pictures of my past?”

He nods.

“I'm certain one of those drawings was of that place. By the time I was drawing it, I’d started to forget where it was and why I remembered it.”

“You're saying the place in that painting is from when you were a Human?"

"I think so..." She lets out a soft, choked sound. "But it might not be. Maybe it looks a lot like one of the places I drew, but it's not it."

Does this explain her strange behavior at certain points? Did something about this town resonate with long forgotten memories for her? Could this town even be...?

He’s out of his depth with this one. What can he say or do to make this better? “It’s not unheard of for a Shinigami to remember places from their past.”

Hinamori blinks. “Huh?”

“When I was a seated officer,” Hitsugaya continues. “I remember rumours among the officers too, about Shinigami acting strange when they were assigned to certain places, and as a result they needed to be transferred. I never paid it much mind, until one of my subordinates came back from a posting requesting to be transferred. He recognised certain buildings in a city he thought he’d never been too. He couldn’t understand it, and tried so hard to explain it to Matsumoto and I when he returned.” He tries to make his shrug casual, but it's too stiff. "That might be happening to you now."

“I guess. It was considered strange I remembered my past life for as long as you did when I arrived the Soul Society.” She sighs. “Sorry, our trip wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“It’s fine, you couldn’t have known.” He steps closer to her. “Do you want to head back to the Soul Society?”

He expects her to either nod or say something to the effect of, ‘Not yet. I still need to make this a trip worth going on.’ He doesn’t expect the pursing of her lips or the balling of her hand into a tight fist around the straps of her bag.

“The thing is,” she says, “I asked that artist where that place was, and she said it’s here.”

The air around them changes, becoming thicker. It's all the confirmation he needs.

When a car rushes past, it jolts him to speak. “And you want to go looking for this place?”

She becomes rueful. “Yeah, I do.”

His eyes narrow slightly. “Are you sure that’s wise? Considering how you reacted before, it might not be a good idea.”

She vehemently shakes her head. “I need to find it! I don’t know how I know it, but if I go there, I’m certain I’ll understand.”

“But it’s from before your life in the Soul Society. What do you hope to gain from it?”

There’s a flicker in her gaze. “I don’t expect you to understand, and if you want to head back to the Seireitei, you can.” She turns and begins walking away. “She told me where I can find it, and I’m going there.”

He’s certain she meant no ill intention or malice behind her words, but he can’t help the pang that runs through his chest. He’s left speechless while watching her go. What’s gotten into her?

“As if I’m leaving,” he grumbles, rushing after her.

She doesn’t look back at him, her gaze searching for something around the town. They walk in tense silence until Hinamori points out a street sign for a shrine that's on the right. "She said to go left of this sign into the forest."

He doesn't like the grim determination in her eyes as they cross the road and walk between the tall trees. There's a dirt path winding around, leading from the flat they stand on down a gentle incline. "Then what?" he asks.

"Follow the path. At some point there's an old broken statue with white and purple flowers at the base."

She presses on, those purposeful strides back again. His hand balls into a fist at his side. "Oi."

She stops but only half turns back to him.

He sighs and folds his arms. "If we don't find anything in twenty minutes, I'm strongly advising we turn back."

She narrows her gaze at the ground.

"Hinamori."

She gives a curt nod. "Fine."

They continue on, walking in silence once more. He doesn't like this, and yet, he can see something softening in her. Is doubt creeping in? He finds he likes that even less.

But what would she want to get out of returning to something she can't remember? That causes her to act like this? He can't think of a similar experience, and even if he could, it's likely he still couldn't fully relate to what she's thinking and feeling right now.

He's certain they're comign up to the twenty minute mark. He pauses on the path to check his denreishinki, but something bothers him in his periphery. To his right, in the far distance, past the tree and shrubbery, there's something grey.

“Hey,” he says, tapping her shoulder, then pointing it out.

When they get closer, Hitsugaya still can’t make out what it is. It’s what was described to Hinamori, but it could be the base of a lantern or a statue, maybe even the broken remains of a pillar. Nothing in the area gives him any clues. As the painter had said, however, at it's base are white and purple flowers either swaying or trying to cling and snake their way by the stone surface.

He’s about to speak, but stops at Hinamori’s intense gaze. It’s like the one had with the painting, as if she were caught somewhere else.

“Hinamori?” When she doesn’t respond, he touches her shoulder. “Oi, you’re spacing out again.”

She jolts with a hitch of breath. “I…” Her head tilts up. “Do you hear that?”

Now that she mentioned it, there’s a sound, one that isn’t like the birds chirping or the rustling of leaves. “Sounds like water.” Lapping water, to be exact. “We must be getting close.”

She nods, but stops. She looks down, finds something, and her gaze scans further down the hill. He frowns, trying to see what she does. It’s several heartbeats later when he notices the path hidden amongst the grass and foliage. It hadn’t been trodden on in quite some time, maybe even decades.

He startles when she sudden runs away, sandaled feet scrapping on the path. He nearly drops his parcel when leaps into action and sprints after her.

_________________________________

She’s gone into a state between shock and something heartfelt. She can feel tears burning in the corners of her eyes, but she can’t understand why. Shrubs and grass scratch at her legs and skirt, but none of it stops her. She’s utterly compelled to keep running, following something she doesn’t understand. The feeling from before has gotten worse, clawing at her heart.

The sound of water, the stone ruin they’d come upon, it fired something old within her, like a muscle memory she hadn't used in a long time.

Through the trees, a lake glitters ahead, and it only makes her run faster. She hears Toshiro call out behind her, sounding alarmed and confused.

The trees and foliage thin out the closer she gets, until all she can see and hear is the waves lapping on the shore. The stony bank rushes up to greet her, and she comes a skidding, abrupt stop before she falls into the water.

“What’s gotten into you?!” Hitsugaya exclaims from behind her. “You can’t just run off like that!”

She ignores him, is too caught up in the sights and smells. The tree line, the rocky bank, and beyond them are the valley’s mountains. The lake is shaped like a tear drop, wide up one end and narrow down the other, likely leading to a river or some larger body of water. There’s a small pier on the wider end, and judging from the bleached patches of wood, it hasn’t been maintained. She looks beyond it, tracing along the tree line. There are pockets where there’s no flora, as if something had once been there but has since crumbled away, left to age and vanish with time.

Something had been there, something she knew.

She lets out shuddering breaths, inhaling in the fresh, floral air. The smell of several flowers, some dangling from the trees, others from the shrubs that are dotted within the forest. It’s the smell of a distant time.

“I know this place,” she says, breathless. “I’ve been…” She shakes her head, dislodging a tear from the corner of her eye. “But that’s impossible. I-I’ve never been here.”

Hitsugaya’s shoes crunch in the pebbled bank as he comes to her side. He watches her for a moment longer, a deep furrow in his brow, then looks around the area. “What makes you so sure?”

“I-I’ve never heard this town,” she insists. “I’ve never even had to come to this part of the World of the Living for missions! Yet, I know it. I drew it! I…” She sobs without tears. “I’m so confused.”

She’d hoped coming here would explain why she felt these strange emotions, why she had drawn a picture of this lake and forest. She doesn’t understand the ache in her heart or the threat of tears. Her head is light, bordering on spinning.

The gentle but firm grip around her forearm bring her back to her sense. She meets her friend’s concerned gaze. She’s mostly found him to be a calming presence, and looking his eyes and focusing on her breath, it’s no different now. "Shiro-chan..."

He doesn't react to nickname. She might've laughed if not for the situation.

She thinks back on what he’d said before about subordinate who also experienced the same emotions as her. It occurs to her again that Hitsugaya can’t fully understand what’s happening to her. His life has always been in the Soul Society. He had no Human life to forget.

Yet here he is, trying to understand, and how had she reacted? She bows her head and rests a hand on top of his. “I’m sorry. I said some harsh words to you before.”

“Forget about it.”

“No, it wasn’t right. I don’t know what possessed me to come here. I don’t know why I thought I’d know what this place is if I came here. If anything, it’s just made me more confused.” She shakes her head. “I took out my frustration on you, I shouldn’t have. And I shouldn’t have come here, either. I really am sorry."

Hitsugaya breaks his gaze away, staring off to the side. For a time, there’s just the lapping of water, the distant calls and chirping of birds, and a gentle breeze that sways the branches of the trees and flora.

“You filled our sketchbook with so many drawings of places and people I didn’t know.” The furrow in his brow deepens. "I felt...I wish I could..." he clenches his jaw, clearly frustrated he can't bring himself to fully express how he felt about it. Still, the fact he's trying warms her heart.

“I wouldn’t know anything from those drawings anymore.” She shakes her head. “I wish I knew more. I wish I knew why know this place. I don’t know what to do, Hitsugaya-kun.”

“Are you certain about that?”

Is she? On one hand, coming here had only left her with more questions and confusing emotions. On the other, it doesn’t feel right to leave yet, as if something keeps her tethered here.

“What would you do?” As soon as she asks the question, she wants to take it back. He isn’t like most Souls. He has no earthly connection of any kind; no ancestors or memories to forget from another world. For him, there is the older woman he calls ‘Baa-chan’. She has no bloodties to him, but she is family to him nevertheless.

She can tell he's weighing whether they should leave or stay. She lifts her hands off his and slips out of his grip. “Let’s just head back.”

He sighs. “It’s not what you want though, is it?”

She presses her lips together. “What good will staying here do?”

“You tell me.”

She can’t help but chuckle, and the small twitch in the corner of his lip only makes her smile involuntarily. “You’re not being fair right now.”

“I think I’m being very fair. This is your decision, Hinamori. You’ve clearly been to this place before in your past and returning to it is making you existential. What say do I have in that?”

"But you do! I feel like I'm dragging you into this."

"I'm not a child anymore, I chose to come here."

He’s right really, but she still expected him to try and convince her to leave. He can worry too much, after all. But then again, the eleven yearlong peace has also mellowed him out a little. What moves her more is that he’s willing to stay and see whichever choice she makes through to the end. He’s always been like that, but it never ceases to amaze her how kind and loyal he can be.

She looks to the pier. “Maybe we could walk over there? I don’t really know why, but…”

“All right.”

Before she sets for the pier, she gestures to the parcel he holds. “Do you want to put that in my bag? You shouldn’t have to carry that the whole time.”

She nearly frowns at his hesitation. Before she can ask, he leans towards her bag. “Sure.”

She opens it for him and he drops the parcel in. “I’ll give it back to you when we get return to the town.” It’s only then it occurs to her he’d actually bought something. She grins as she starts up the bank and he follows. “What is it, by the way?”

“A book.”

“Oh? Are you getting back into reading?”

“Something like that.”

She pouts at his vagueness. “Aw, come on, you can tell me.”

“I will later. In the meantime, lets get to the pier.”

She decides to let it go. It had been a small diversion from the tumult of emotions going through her. She finds, however, walking along the bank with only their food steps and the sounds of nature is somewhat calming. If it weren’t for how she is feelings, she could take in just how beautiful the area is. She had tried to draw it from memory, but if only she could sketch it now.

Does she want a memento of this place? That begs the question: what happens when she leaves? Will she long for this place for the rest of her days? The thought of that makes her clutch a hand to her chest. She’s dealt with far worse, but knowing this place could haunt her for decades to comes fill her with a dreadful anxiety.

“Hinamori?”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine.”

She senses he wants to ask more, but he says nothing. Again, she’s reminded of his kindness. She presses her lips together hard to ignore the burn of tears tingling at the backs of her eyes. She’ll have to make it up to him somehow. None of this was right, not when today was about having fun and relaxing together.

As they near the pier, her heart flutters anew. “Do you think it’s safe to walk on?”

“Only one way to find out.”

She raises a brow at him.

Hitsugaya shrugs. “It doesn’t look that old. Besides, the lake seems shallow, you'll barely get wet.”

Is he trying to lift her spirits again? It doesn’t quite work this time, but she still indulges him with a small smile.

They comes to a stop where the ground transaction between dirt and wooden planks. Hinamori twists slowly in all directions. Behind them is one of the patches without trees. To the untrained eye, there’s nothing to see here, but she notices the strange bumps in the dirt and the odd what a hedge is shaped. Moss and a shrub have completely overtaken a featureless stone sculptures – not unlike the one that saw before – and there’s raised lines running through the dirt and grass. The shrubbery had completely grown over something round and wooden propped against a tree; she can’t make out what it is.

“I don’t think anyone has been here for a long time,” she says.

“Given there’s no official path to here, yes,” Hitsugaya replies.

“I wonder why?”

He walks over to the strange shrub. “Some things are just left to be forgotten. The World of Living is not like ours. The Humans move on quicker.”

The flicker of sympathy in her chest almost makes her forget about why she’d come over here. Still, she offers, “But we do move on, for better or worse or without even realising.”

He looks over his shoulder at her. His expression unreadable, but his usual frown has softened away.

Swallowing against the growing tightness in her throat, she returns her attention to the pier. She places a careful step on to the wooden planks. At the next, there’s a groan. Still, it feels stable.

She treads the rest of the way slowly, coming to a stop near the end. The view is even more beautiful from here, giving her a vista that’s only the lake below, the trees in the middle, and the sky. The clouds have gotten taller since they first arrived.

Her heart seizes and the air is squeezed out of her lungs. A spark. No, a flash, like the afterimage of a lantern after she blinks – the form is there for a second, but quickly dissolves into something shapeless, and then into only colors that fade into nothing. Two hands, one smaller than the other – she’s certain hers is the bigger one – and the lake in the lower half, the line of trees and bank in the middle, and high above is the sky. The hands reach – no, one points – to the clouds towering over the forest and reflecting in the water. The arms are clad is yukata sleeves, here’s in white with Sakura blossoms, the other in yellow and white flowers. Is there a boat on the waters too? With a fishing net cast out on one side? There’s laughter, childish and high-pitched.

She’s held by the memory, unable to breathe for a second that seems to stretch on forever. There’s clouds, but they’re not from the memory. She’s back in the present, Hitsugaya standing at her side. She gasps, trying to catch her breath and hunches over.

“Hey!” He shifts to stand in front of her and holds her shoulders. “What’s going on?”

She wets her lips before she looks to him. “I think…I think I remembered something," she struggles to get out. “I think it’s of me and…a sister?”

She can’t explain how she knows the other hand belongs to a sibling, but saying it aloud makes tears suddenly form again. “I had a sister.”

Hitsugaya only nods, prompting her to keep going.

“I had a sister, and now…she’s gone. I had…parents too.” It’s so obvious, and yet it’s as if it’s only occurring to her now. She’s never had to think about since losing her memories. Her heart hammers against her chest and she’s struggling to regain her breath. “I died before them. I have no idea what happened to them. I could have seen or met them in the Soul Society and never even known it.” A more horrifying thought takes hold. “They might even be Shinigami right now and I’d never know it.”

“Hinamori.” Hitsugaya says her name more pressingly. “Slow down. Breathe.”

“I can’t I –" Tears blur in the corners of her eyes. "What can I do? They’re gone. What am I supposed to do?”

She grunts at the sudden cold pressed near the nape of her neck. Hitsugaya’s hands had left her shoulders and now hold the underside of her jaw. Her tears stop, her mouth agape, but her breath returns.

Seeing her calm down, Hitsugaya’s gaze turns apologetic and he sips his hands away. “You decide, and tell me what I can do."

She’s going in circles. How can she come to terms with all of this? The wind picks up, throwing her ponytail off her shoulder and billowing her skirt. Leaves and petals scatter in the air, some falling on the lake and others amongst the grass.

She takes one of his hands and squeezes it. “Thank you, Shiro-chan.”

Letting go, she walks off the pier and he follows. She goes to the ruins, coming to a stop in the middle of the raised lines. It feels right to stand here, she can’t explain it. “I think there used to be some kind of boat shed here. I’m guessing my… family would come here to fish.” She shrugs weakly. “I don’t know for sure, I’m only guessing.”

She looks to the strange shrub. When approaching it, she can’t explain the uncertainty that it evokes within her. There’s nothing threatening about it, but there’s nothing familiar or knowing about it either.

The shrubbery is more like vines, with branches winding around the tree trunk, and it’s leaves shiny and big. She pulls at a clump, breaking it apart with ease. She takes a few more handfuls while Hitsugaya comes to stand behind her. Again she expects him to voice his concern, but he remains silent.

When she brushes several branches aside, she can make out what’s beneath. The wheel of a cart. It’s so aged she’s certain even applying the tiniest bit of pressure to any part of it would reduce it to splinters beneath her fingertips. Yet it still had its shape.

She thinks about her sketchbooks, stored in the back of her closet and collecting dust. She hasn’t looked at her first ones in years, and she didn’t have any reason not to. But maybe, she was scared to look and remember a time when she had memories of another time. It shouldn’t matter to her, that life ended, had been gone for close to a century.

She wonders if she was blessed or cursed with remembering her old life when she came to the Soul Society. The desperation she’d had the time when trying to draw everything from that life tells it’s the latter, yet she can’t discount the former either. To know one has lived a life before this, no matter how short, to have experienced things – good and bad and somewhere in between – that they may be experienced only once or for the first time again.

She looks back to Hitsugaya then. She’d experienced a lot with him, he makes up a lot of her childhood memories. In the first years of knowing him, the special and novelty of discovering a new world captivated her, but as both wore off, it made a part of her long for the place in her memories. She’d wanted to go back, until the memories went and she didn’t know what she could miss from her life as a Human.

Perhaps this is what all these emotions are, returning to her after all this time. The grief of a girl who wanted to go back, now has to find it’s all gone and the shame having forgotten about it.

It couldn’t be helped, was inevitable for every Soul. Hers. Her Human family too. The Soul Society is so vast that it’s incredibly rare for one to find their family from when they were a Human. She recalls rumors in the beginning of lieutenancy that Ikkaku had a younger sister he’d reunited after she became a Shinigami – despite how dismissive many were at the time, it turned out to be true.

However, in the event it old families found each other, it’s not always for the best. She’d heard whispers in her Academy days of Shinigami born in two very different districts, and finding each other again, only to resent each other for being born in a district higher or lower than each other. She even heard a story where an officer found their brother, only for them to die by his hands because he resented him for ‘leaving their family behind’. The validity of such stories is always contested, so rare is it for Shinigami to find old family members.

If she did meet her sister or parents again, she can’t say for certain how she will react. Would the memories of her previous life come flooding back to her? Would she simply just know it’s them but not remember a thing? Would they know who she is?

She stands, not breaking her gaze from Hitsugaya. She has this life to live, to be with him and everyone else. New family and friends to make and be with, and perhaps, one day even, someone to spend the rest of her life with until she’s reincarnated back to the World of the Living and starts that new life.

Hitsugaya opens his mouth, about to speak, but she stops him when she strides forward and pulls him into a hug. “I’m okay now,” she reassures. “I think I’ve figured it out.”

Hitsugaya is too stunned by her actions to speak at first. Eventually, he relaxes but doesn’t hug her back. “You have?”

She nods. “Thank you for coming here with me. I couldn’t have done this without you, really.”

Several heartbeats pass his arm come loosely around her shoulders and torso. She can sense his confusion, and why wouldn’t he be? It’s like the subordinate he mentioned: how can she express this experience in words? Could she even draw it?

She pulls back just far enough to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry again that I derailed our day.” She offers a rueful smile. “It’s hard to explain. I may never be able to –”

“It can’t be helped.” His words would sound cold if not for how soft his tone was. “So long as you’re all right, then it’s only for you to know.”

She blinks, stunned at first, then her smile widens into a grin. “Thank you.”

But it's not as simple as that. Not yet. Time would help it to make it that way. No, right now, it's too much. Her grin wavers, and that grief, that overwhelming shame, crashes over her like a wave. She bows her head, and the tears fall. "I'm..."

Hitsugaya isn't alarmed, doesn't even utter a word. He tugs on her arms, signalling her to return to the hug, and she does, sobbing into his shoulder.

If only he could've met her old family. If only her two lives could exist at once. If only she didn't know such feelings as these. It's life. It's hurt and relief. It's knowing he's here, has always been, even at her worst moments.

She stands with him for several minutes, coming up when she's certain there' s no tears left to shed. She wipes her face with the back of her arm and quietly apologies for wetting his shirt's shoulder. He says nothing, only raising a hand to catch the few stray tears clinging to the edge of her jaw.

After a beat, they watch the waves of the lake, the swaying of the flora and trees, and the slow migration of the clouds across the sky. Perhaps she should find a way to say goodbye to this place, to this old life. She can’t think of a way, and perhaps leaving with someone from her new life is fitting.

It feels like the right time to leave, but they remain for quite some time, even ending up sitting on the bank in companionable silence. In a moment of boldness, she rests her head on his shoulder, exhaustion slowly seeping into her. He doesn’t go rigid like she half expects.

“Will you come back?”

She glances at Hitsugaya, but he continues to stare out at the lake. He’s always had a striking appearance, but it’s in moment like these she questions if her feelings of friendship are something more.

“No,” she eventually answers. “I won’t.”

When she leaves, will the memories that led her to this place disappear again? Will she recall this day with fondness or melancholy? She doesn’t know, only time will tell.

An hour later, when they make their way back to the hidden path, she only looks back to the pier once. The feeling of rather than the visual of the memory burns in the back of her mind. It might be the last time she remembers it. It could be gone forever, buried like the wheel beneath the vines and flora. There will be no traces of it left in this world or in the Soul Society. She had already forgotten it once, and she will again.

It didn’t mean it didn’t happen or never mattered. So many things are forgotten, big and small, and yet, they live on in some way, consciously or not. She carries the memory and her old life in every step she takes into her new one without knowing. Every experience, remembered or not, has made her who she is.

________________________

Later, after coming through the senkaimon, giving her gigai back, and then parting ways with Hitsugaya, she returns to her room. Exhausted, she considers not joining everyone in the mess hall for dinner, but she’s hungry and it might concern them she isn’t there.

The clothes and bag she’d worn are her own, bought while on a mission in the World of Living just over a decade ago. She changes back into her uniform, ready to go down to the mess hall until she remembers her bag. She lifts it from her bed and takes out the boxed-up mug. She'd strongly considered giving it to him once they returned, another apology for how today turned out.

 She makes a mental note get wrapping paper tomorrow in her break before putting it in her closet. It’ll be there for a while, but at least she doesn’t have to worry about getting him a birthday present for this year.

She goes to take out the bags of candy and the hedge-hog shaped cookie, but halts at the parcel. I forgot to give it back to him! Taking it out, she drops her bag and makes for the door, intending to sprint to Tenth Division before going to dinner.

The tag on the parcel flips over, and the characters written on the back make her pause. It’s her name, and beneath it ‘Sorry it’s late’. She frowns. This is meant for me?

Thinking back to before they parted, Hitsugaya had stared at her bag for longer than she expected. She wouldn’t have needed to remind him of parcel, he knew it was still in there.

She walks backwards until the backs of her knees hit her bed and she sits down. What had he meant by ‘Sorry it’s late’? White day had been and gone, there wasn’t any special event where she was expecting anything from him. If only he were here so could ask. Shell have to ask him when he sees her next.

 She pulls on the string bow, then tears away the brown paper. A book. One she’s never heard of before. The cover shows a green valley and sky sparsely clouded. A woman stands in the foreground, back facing the reader, her head tilted upwards. The title, Gone with the Clouds, and the author’s name are high above the woman, making appear she’s looking at them.

She raises her head to the bookcase against her wall. There’s two rows of books, with a third starting to be occupied by the last three novels she’d gotten – one she bought earlier in the year, the other two collections of haiku poems from Izuru for her birthday. It contends with a purple vase that needs flowers in it and the gift from Hitsugaya and Rangiku for one of her birthdays of tiny figurines of a boy, short-haired and in a blue kimono, and a girl, pig-tailed and in a floral white and red kimono.

On other shelves are old copies of the Seireitei Communication that feature articles or creative contributions from her friends, a tea set she’d bought but has yet to use, the wooden box of color pencils given to her by Shinji last year for her birthday, the box of her colored and black charols, a stack of unused sketchbooks, a baking recipe book, a clay Chappy made by Ichika, a star plushies given by Kazui, a framed photo of her and then Women’s Association at their festival stall, the chest with her old hair accessories – her hair cloth, ribbon, clip, and a bandana given to her by Renji – and an lavender scented candle she’d last lit a few years ago.

She rises from her bed and goes over to slide the book in next to haiku collections.

A birthday gift. It’s a birthday gift.

She lets out a chuckle at the realisation. Honestly, he couldn’t have written it on the tag? This years had been like one of the few others where she didn’t get a gift from him, until today almost three weeks later. Maybe he’d intended to give it to her himself, but then her search for the past diverted things. In the end, she got a memento for this day, and there’d be no way to detach it from it. Not that she’d want to, because for better or worse, today happened.

She slides the book on to the shelf, becoming a part of everything she’d either brought herself or received from someone else. All from her life here.

[sloth-babied]

Stay the Night

Shuri x POC reader

Summary: You’ve been keeping it a secret that Shuri’s been your muse for a lot of your music. When you decide to show her a song you’ve been working on, she starts to piece together who you’ve been writing about.

or

Reader is a musician who stubbornly denies to one of the smartest people on Earth that she isn’t your muse.

Contains: Shy reader, tension, and angst if you really squint. No use of y/n.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: No, I am not dead! Just burnt out, yk how it is. But I had motivation to write this, so I really hope yall enjoy! Not my best work, but it’s something. And sorry for not being active. 

(Also I recommend listening to The Internet while reading just bc that’s what I listened to, hence the title lol)

Shuri stares at you as you adjust the headphones on her head, hyper aware of the proximity between the two of you. She only nods when you ask if she’s comfortable before the heel of your palm rests on the desk. Your finger hovers over the computer keyboard, reluctant to press play.

“It’s just a draft, so you know, lower your expectations.”

“Just play the song,” she laughs lightly, very much aware that this was a first draft from the numerous times you told her before even handing her your headphones.

You murmur a quick and sheepish, “Okay,” and click the spacebar. Her shoulders bounce, entertained by your apprehensiveness.

You deeply inhale as your heart starts beating faster, in contrast to Shuri who simply bops her head gently to the rhythm, the ball of her foot tapping the wooden floor.

You rarely showed anyone your early drafts, either out of worry in case they disliked what they heard, or if their enjoyment would jinx your chances of actually finishing the track. Yeah, you can be a bit superstitious—that Shuri knows with all the wood-knocking you’ve done around her.

Which is why it was uncharacteristic of you to show Shuri your latest project. 

It presented itself as an impulsive, “You wanna hear this new song I’m working on?” and you couldn’t take it back when you were met with an enthusiastic ‘yes’.

Shuri’s brows furrow, the movement of her head much more exaggerated. 

“This is good!” She compliments you loudly, tapping on one side of the headphones. You shush her humorously, reminding her of your neighbors and the lack of soundproof foam on your walls. “Sorry,” she chuckles before whispering, “This is good,” again.

It’s mostly dark in the room, the only light source in the room coming from the computer screen. The light reflects on Shuri’s skin, her eyes closed when she isn’t occasionally stealing glances at the side of your face, curious about the words you’ve written; envious of who you’ve written it for, though she’s had hopeful suspicions.

Your eyes stay glued on the screen, too embarrassed to watch the person who was, unbeknownst to her, your muse. 

Truthfully, she had been the subject of many of your songs, released and unreleased, since you first fell in love with her. That was two years ago. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from the long day or the present time of night that made the idea of sharing your music more enticing. Or maybe, subconsciously, you had to tell her how you felt without actually telling her.

Shuri hums along to the chorus, naturally catching onto the melody and you scratch your cheek in an attempt to hide your smile. You feel giddy inside at the way her body reacts—just so in-sync like she always is with the rest of your music. 

Until the song hits the bridge. 

Through your peripheral vision, it’s hard to ignore Shuri’s head movement slowing down to a halt. You catch a proper glimpse of her, only for a second, and oh, no, her face has gone blank. You feel your chest heave and now your brain is spiraling, wondering what the hell is going on in hers.

Shuri looks off, really listening this time. She flicks another glance at you before the last chorus arrives. And when it ends, she removes the headphones at a pace that perturbs you a bit…a lot actually. You’re left uneasy when she holds your headphones on her lap. She hasn’t looked at you and she hasn’t said anything yet.

“I know it’s not great,” you scratch the back of your neck then steal the headphones from her, laying them on the desk. Aimlessly, you fumble with your laptop, laughing nervously to fill the silence. “It’s just a draft. I probably won’t even finish it.”

Shuri’s still not saying anything and, christ, is it bothering you. At this point you’d rather she say it’s downright bad instead of keeping you on edge like this. But eventually she speaks, and when you hear her say your name, you initially feel like you could breathe again because she finally said something. However, that only lasts for a second.

“Is this true?” 

Your finger freezes on the mouse. You turn your head in her direction but her gaze doesn’t meet yours. You’re unsure what to say.

“What you wrote…is it true?” 

She takes the mouse from you, the feel of her hand leaving tingles on your skin. She clicks back to the beginning of the bridge before removing the headphone jack. Your voice plays on the speaker and suddenly you’re too stunned to remind her of your neighbors.

What exactly did you write? Nothing specific, or so you thought.

Then she pauses the song, an audible click coming from the spacebar, anticipatedly eyeing you. 

You shrug as an attempt to seem oblivious. (One might call it ‘gaslighting’.) 

“I write little stories for my songs,” you try to play it off. “I mean, I guess some are real, but most of ‘em aren’t, you know?” 

“You wrote about our time at the beach.” She states plainly, leaning back against her chair. She’s referring you to the secret beach you snuck her into in your hometown—a beach only so many people know of.

You glance at the notification-free lock screen of your phone on the desk; another excuse not to look her in the eye. “I take inspiration from shit in my own life.”

“And in your last album you wrote about the time we went on that hike together.” She adds. Yikes, you were hoping she wouldn’t notice that. 

“We’re lost in the woods,

I’m lost in your eyes.”

Damn your corny attempts at being poetic. You nearly cringe recalling the moment you wrote that. 

A year ago you went hiking with Shuri, and you insisted that you didn’t need any technology to navigate your way back home. You figured you’d walk back down the trail you walked up on, until you kept passing the same tree over and over again. Shuri laughed at you the entire time, comforted by the fact that she brought her Kimoyo bead bracelet with her, as you slowly started to freak out despite your refusal to admit you were wrong and maybe a map could’ve been useful.

“I hike all the time.” No, you don’t.

“No, you don’t,” Shuri shakes her head, one side of her lips tilting upwards. She leans forward and grabs the apron of your chair between your legs, rolling you closer to her until her knee hits the edge of your seat and your thighs loosely puzzle together. 

The light from the bright red motel sign across the street peaks through each horizontal slit of the blind curtain, and the cool night breeze outside lightly blows through the half-open window, lifting the curtain only a little, red occasionally sneaking under the bottom hem of the window covering. 

With the wind entering, the room should feel cool. It’s supposed to be. Yet your cheeks flush and the heat centered around your face tempts you to remove your hoodie because it’s easier to blame a jacket than the girl who’s figured you out.

You reattach your hand back on the mouse, unsure what you’d even do with it, but Shuri’s hand covers yours, your moist palm now stagnant on the object. 

“You released a single the year we met,” she says, her voice quieter than before but louder than a whisper. She doesn’t explain further. You remember the party two years ago and you know exactly what you wrote. Who are you to fool one of the most brilliant minds on the planet?

The computer screen dims, allowing you to notice the red illuminating on the back of her hand. You see red highlight the outline of her body and she stares at the red on the edge of your face. Then she looks at your eyes, your lips, then your eyes once again. Shuri slides her palm up to your elbow, her grip neither tight nor loose. 

“What are you so afraid of?” asks Shuri. 

You had spent so much of your romantic life dejected. Countless dating apps resulting in crappy dates. Or worse: friendships. Too many “The more I get to know you, the more I get friendly vibes from you”. Too many “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready for this,” when really they realized they actually didn’t like you. Then when you knew someone in your own life who you liked romantically, the feeling—more often than not—wasn’t mutual. 

Best case scenario, you remain friends but things are only just a little awkward. Worst case scenario, they insist that things are okay then gradually ghost you. 

At this point, you were ready to give up.

“I don’t wanna…” you trail off.

She leans closer and whispers, “What?”

You stare off at anything that isn’t her. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

She leans down and tilts her face up, forcing your eyes to meet hers. She raises her brows. “Because…?”

You tuck your chin and your brows quirk. “Because?”

“I want you to tell me why you’re afraid of losing me,” she places her other hand on your armrest, trapping you, and you start stammering. “Since you do it so well in your songs.”

You can’t get anything out, though she doesn’t look away. You feel stuck, considering the numerous things you could tell her. Alternatively, you sigh. Fuck it. 

“I think I’ve told you enough,” you inhale, cupping one hand on her jaw and the other on the back of her neck before you firmly kiss her. Shuri lets out a muffled noise before reciprocating. 

And you both think, Finally.

Her body starts to sway backwards as you press against her, however she pushes you back against your chair. Her hands grab the sides of your face—one hand under your hood and the other over—refusing to let go now that she’s on her feet. Her upper body bends down just so her lips can live on yours, and a chuckle escapes both of you when your chair rolls backwards, almost hitting the wall behind you.

Admittedly, you enjoy sitting as she envelops your lips, but you decide to stand. Your hands slide down to her waist as you slowly walk her backwards until her legs meet the edge of your bed and she ends up landing on her bottom with her elbows supporting her weight as she gazes up at you, several red horizontal lines covering her body.

God, you can’t believe this is happening. You can’t believe Shuri wants you as much as you want her. Everything feels…unreal. Dream-like.

“Come here,” she pulls your wrist and you land on top of her. The bed bounces beneath you as her hand slithers up to your neck, drawing you in for a chaste kiss. She catches you in your thoughts. “You okay?” Is this okay? 

You nod, still admiring her below you. You whisper, “I didn’t think you’d…pay attention. To what I wrote. I didn’t know you were listening like that.”

Shuri caresses your neck with her thumb. She takes note of the neon blue light illuminating half of your face from a bar sign also across the street, below the motel sign. 

She kisses your cheek, your chin, then your lips once again. “I’ll always listen to you.”

[lumpyorgan4799]

Dennis Nilsen notes: 

“How to explain the irresistible compulsion to join the sea, to be part of it, to sink into the solace of its company? His mother would think him mad! A love for sea has never ceased to feed his imagination in the years since he left Scotland. “I am at one with visions of breaks in the dark wild sky,’ he writes. “With heavenly shafts of light searching the grumbling sea.” > pg. 51 || indicative of the SX instinct 

‘Dennis, however, rarely participated or joined in; still melancholic and drawn to the sea, he formed no close friendships with the children of his new neighbourhoods.’ 

‘He was, in the local word, a ‘Skowkie’ child, unsmiling and resentful of questioning adults, to whom he gave a clear impression of disgust and reserve.’ > 

Dennis confirmed that he felt cold towards the family  — there wasn’t anyone he had positive feelings for except for his grandfather. > 

‘In those days, I could hate my stepfather, Adam Scott very easily. I was, I suppose, very jealous of him having a relationship with my mother. 

‘I was a very lonely and turbulent child. I inhabited my own secret world full of ideal and imaginary friends. Nature had mismatched me from the flock.’ > Ni + enneagram image 4 + E5 influence 

In spite of Dennis having school-mates, he would often wander the fields and woods alone  — lost in his own thoughts and head. 

‘He felt inferior and ashamed; he did not dare approach him, but merely hovered in the playground watching him and trying to get near him, his legs quivering like jelly.”  > SO 4

‘He was a frail and skinny boy, very self-conscious, introverted, and shy’

. ‘then he must indulge his secret emotions in private, where the imagination rules  — not reality.’ > enneagram 5w4 

‘Dennis was aroused by the image of himself, but of himself only as a dead man. Love and death were becoming dangerously mingled in his mind, as he remembered the image of his adored dead grandfather.’ > image type 4 (idealism of own self). Quietly in the quarters of his mind, Dennis was dead, too. 

‘Dennis especially enjoyed the free ambiance of equality, which accorded well with his rapidly developing sense of idealism in political matters.’  

‘His mother recalls that he would stay up late listening to music and writing poetry. He was a moody uncommunicative stranger in the house.’ > strong BETA NF (EIE/IEI) 

‘So the endless search for companionship continued.’ > SX INSTINCT 

‘Motivated by a strong social conscience, he quickly became immersed in the task and it was not long until he was a branch secretary’ 

‘Work became an obsessive substitute for an empty life, and since he seemed unable to convey his concern for individuals in any way which they understood or could accept, he would devote his concern to the nebulous concept of mankind in general’. 

‘He was too keen, too impulsive, too angry; they wondered what deep irritations fed his manic eagerness.’ > high neuroticism (big 5) 

Dennis was no diplomat; he was impatient of the strategy whereby an important objective was attained by subtle means. > Te frustration 

in their view, he was volatile and excitable, and although they could not fault his work (indeed, he worked harder than most). 

He was not, and never would consent to be, submissive. On the contrary, he fought with ever increasing vigour to break, bend, or divert the rules which he seemed to think were being applied for his personal chastisement. > Enneagram 8 + Se (socionics) 

He was meticulously efficient and a workaholic 

his demeanour was confusing; he could be abrupt, short-tempered, impatient, and driven by a need to talk without pause, or even better to argue. He was passionate in debate. When aroused, he would be wonderfully sarcastic. On the other hand, he was at times docile, generous and kind. 

There were plenty of occasions when he generated real laughter. On the other hand, he was secretive and erratic. 

One of the most astonishing aspects of the case is Nilsen’s ability to go about his daily work with energy and enthusiasm, to go out for drinks, walk the dog, and even entertain people peacefully at his flat. All while there was a collection of bodies under his floor or cupboard. > low Si (socionics) 

[issie-https]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 - 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐓

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝑲𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆 & 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔: 1029

𝑨/𝒏: 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔! 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 2 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 - 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓

I could feel something or someone watching my every move. Every breath, every blink, every thought even — everything I did was being watched. Maybe I was going insane? Surely no one was watching me, its not a normal thing to do in todays society — stalking and staring was frowned upon. I told the voices in my head to shut up and continued stocking the shelves at the small store I worked at. I had death metal was playing in my headphones, quietly enough so I could hear if anyone was asking for help but loud enough so the low hum of the air-conditioning was drowned out.

I heard the quiet noise of the hinges on the door creak, signaling to me that someone had entered the shop. I assumed it was just another skateboarding, monster drinking teenager wanting to ogle at the newest hip hop album. Couldn't blame them though, I do like Eminem's music but if we're being honest, metal and rock music owns my heart. I was quickly pulled out of my head by someone saying, "Excuse me,".

"Hello, can I help?" I asked, pausing my music. "I was just wondering if you could help me find the metal records?" he asked. His eyes we're gorgeous, a captivating shade of blue. "Of course, any specific genre of metal?" I asked. "Heavy metal," he replied. "Good choice," I said, "it's all in this section here, as well as that shelf there". "Cool, thanks," he grinned.

I sat on the spinning chair behind the counter, changing the cd over to Nirvana's 'Nevermind' album and skipping to track 3. The sweet sounds of Kurt's voice filled the store as I hummed along to the lyrics and bounced my knee to Dave's drumming. The same guy came up to the sticker-covered counter and placed a Deftones vinyl on it, "Just this,". I picked up the record and scanned the label, "Sophisticated taste," I said. "Says you. Nirvana is a great choice," he replied. "Thank my dad for that part of my music taste," I said, "Your total is twelve bucks,". He handed me the money as I slid the vinyl over to him. "In that case, my compliments to your dad," he smiled before leaving the shop.

I sat there after, picking at some of the older stickers that needed replacing as the image was almost completely faded and the edges were sticky, dirty and coming up.

I went through the rest of my day, a handful more customers came and went, some buying Britney Spears, some buying HIM and others buying 50 Cent. I couldn't get that one guy off my mind. He was literally perfect, black hair with red streaks, blue eyes, an amazing smile and killer music taste. A guy like that is hard to find nowadays, most of them have short, slicked back hair and only listen to songs based around misogyny. I should've asked for his fucking number. Idiot.

Its rare we get someone that likes heavy metal come into the shop. So that one person that comes in and buys a metal album always makes me smile. I had been raised on metal and rock music, my mum being into Guns N Roses, AC/DC and KISS while my dad was into Nirvana, Green Day and Blink-182.

I had also always been fascinated by the rock/metal culture, the music being loud and deafening while also serenading my ears. Metalheads as a group also peaking my interest, other people thinking that we're freaks or Satan worshipers when in reality, we just need an escape from reality. Metal and Rock music is our home, comforting on a bad day and making us smile on a good day — bringing people of all kinds together.

༺✧༻

As the time reached 6:45pm, it was time to close the shop. However, five minuets before I left that same feeling that someone was watching me took over again — it sent chills down my spine, causing goosebumps to rise onto the surface of my skin. I, as usual, brushed it off and locked the store, closing the shutters and went straight to my car. A black van was parked two spaces away from mine, death metal blasting from the slightly parted windows.

I listened to KoRn the whole way home, my vocals sounding butchered as I did my best John Davis impression. I'm sure that if anyone was to hear me, they'd think I sound like a cat being strangled.

I got back to my small house and immediately kicked off my shoes, the blisters from the harsh leather already stinging on the surface of my skin. I noticed the light on my back porch was on, making me mumble to myself, 'fucking cats'. I don't hate cats but they annoy me when they shit and piss on my garden. I shoved my frozen pizza into the oven and grabbed a beer out the fridge. I clicked the television on and put on a random movie on MTV.

I did my regular night routine; get home, eat dinner, drink a beer or two, watch crap on tv, get into my pyjamas and fall asleep on my couch. I could feel myself get taken away by sleep, off to a different world — a better world, mentally satisfying my every need. That was until I heard the front door unlock. Someone was breaking in, just my fucking luck. I grabbed the nearest heavy object which just so happened to be a shoe from my pair of Doc Martins. "Who's there?!" I yelled. I tried to keep my voice strong but my nervous tone seemed to slip through. I could hear a series of hushed words, something like 'I told you she wasn't fully asleep'.

The last thing I could remember was some kind of smoke filling the air as my lungs felt like they were getting tight inside my ribcage, suffocating me as I struggled to keep consciousness. My eye lids felt heavy, straining as they fought against falling asleep. The last thing I saw was four men standing around me in funky looking masks. Great. This is how I die.

[temporal-ridge]

Growing Up Twice: Childhood Nostalgia and Twenty-Something Loneliness

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how lonely it feels to be in my early twenties in 2024. I’m almost 25, the age when I’ve been told my prefrontal cortex will finally “finish rendering,” cementing me as a fully fledged adult—complete with the ability to rent a car without extra fees. But I can’t help but wonder: does the world feel so vast and unforgiving because my brain is giving one final, chaotic hurrah before settling into place? Will I wake up one day with a clear sense of who I am and what I want? Right now, I feel like a different person every day—unsure of everything, from what I want as a snack to what I want out of life.

Maybe the root of it all is that life itself feels less stable. My parents hit the so-called “traditional milestones” earlier: buying houses, settling into careers, starting families. For so many of us, those markers of adulthood feel distant or unattainable. Instead of the stability they describe, we’re floating—stuck in a world that feels too big, fragmented, and uncertain.

And I can’t help but wonder: is the loneliness I feel because the world has changed? Or is it just me, growing up and seeing it all differently?

I’ve been reflecting on how my twenties compare to those of older generations—like my parents, who spent theirs in the early to mid-90s. Yes, the economy was different. Yes, the world was different. But when they talk about their youth, there’s this undeniable sense of connection: stories of friends they saw daily, bands everyone listened to, shows they all watched, clothes they all wore. It feels like their world was smaller, tethered by shared experiences and chance encounters.

Maybe people my age have that too, but I feel I lack it entirely.

The Loss of Shared Experience

Back then, shared experiences were often born of serendipity. With only a handful of TV channels, everyone tuned into the same shows. The biggest movies played in the same theaters because there wasn’t an endless universe of niche streaming platforms. Now, our media is curated to suit our preferences—tailored so perfectly that it rarely overlaps with what anyone else is watching. I find it almost exciting when someone watches the same show as me because it feels so rare.

It seems like we traded universality for individuality. And while individuality is worth celebrating, I wonder: does this abundance of choice isolate us more than it fulfills us? For me, too much choice feels paralyzing. I rarely start new shows or movies anymore, clinging instead to my comfort shows—where I don’t have to decide anything at all.

Nostalgia and “Mass Memories”

I know I’m not alone in feeling this way. Nostalgia TikToks flood my feed—videos set to melancholic, hollow music or the sounds of summer mornings. They pull us back to a shared childhood: the DoodleBear on every Christmas list in 1995, coveted McDonald’s toys—Barbies, Beanie Babies, or Disney collectibles—and the same Disney or Pooh Bear bedsheets we somehow all ended up with.

Our parents’ phones may have been different, but we remember them because they were everywhere—in the hands of neighbors, teachers, family friends. Target glowed with neon lights that now feel hazy and yellowed in our minds. We remember the orange slices after soccer games, rewinding VCR tapes, and the satisfying crack of their plastic cases.

It’s a collective melancholy—a longing for the childhood we shared, even though we grew up in different homes, with different lives. For those of us who came of age in the late ‘90s and early 2000s, there’s comfort in recognizing these mass memories we unknowingly built together. Maybe the world felt less isolating because we were kids—naive, small-minded, and tied to those simple, universal experiences.

The Shift in Connection

But then something shifted. By middle and high school, our collective memory began to splinter. We stopped watching the same shows, reading the same books, or seeing the same movies. I’m not discrediting the mass phenomena—like The Hunger Games or Percy Jackson—that briefly brought us back together. Those were the moments when I felt most connected again, like we were all on the same page.

With the rise of the internet, everything changed. Suddenly, we had access to niche interests, subcultures, and fandoms—spaces where we could find and celebrate what made us different. The internet was powerful, especially for those of us who felt like outsiders in real-world communities. For many, online spaces became lifelines.

But it came at a cost. Did we abandon physical relationships because digital ones felt safer? Did online connection deepen the divide between who we were on the screen and who we were in real life? I think back to my teenage years: the kids who didn’t fit in at school could find belonging online. But even as I celebrate that, I can’t ignore the “othering” it created in our real-world relationships.

The Internet as a Double-Edged Sword

This shift isn’t just about what we consume—it’s about how we connect. My parents describe friendships that seemed effortless: bumping into each other at the same diner, dropping by unannounced, or chatting after work. There were “third places”—physical spaces like diners, churches, and clubs—where people gathered without needing to plan it. The internet has largely replaced those spaces, allowing us to connect on our own terms. But is it enough?

We’re more connected than ever, yet those connections often feel paper-thin. Friendships now play out through texts, likes, DMs, and memes. Social media makes it easy to reach out, but harder to go deep. I can’t help but wonder if we’re mistaking the performance of connection—curating, posting, commenting—for true intimacy.

And yet, despite its flaws, the internet gives me hope. There’s a trend where people share deeply personal stories—the kind of confessions you’d only tell a best friend. Inevitably, someone comments: “I’ve never had an original experience.” It’s silly, but it comforts me. It reminds me that, in some small, quiet ways, we’re still living parallel lives—still sharing moments we don’t realize we’re sharing.

A Quiet Self-Realization

I know I sound a bit like an old grandpa, urging people to get out and meet each other, even while the idea feels debilitating to me. I’m not sure I’d even know how to do that anymore. Maybe what I really yearn for is to be a child again, to reclaim the simplicity of a world where connection didn’t feel so complicated. And maybe I’m blaming the internet for not letting me stay young forever.

But nostalgia is a tricky thing. Maybe ten years from now, we’ll look back on the 2020s with the same bittersweet longing we feel for our childhoods. Maybe we’ll scroll through slideshows set to hollow music and realize we were building collective memories all along.

Right now, though, that feels impossible. Nostalgia can’t exist for the present moment. It only emerges when we’re far enough removed to see it as beautiful.

Perhaps this is me looking back at my childhood with rose-colored glasses, remembering only the good. But I don’t think it’s just that. I think I’m yearning for hope—that I can find that feeling of connection again. That the internet, the thing I use most, won’t also be the thing that isolates me in the end. That one day, I’ll look back on this time and see something beautiful, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

315 of 2023

Confessions for the day [True or False]

Created by joybucket

I wish my teeth were straighter. I carry my phone with me wherever I go. 📱 I often forget to carry my phone with me when I go places. I often forget to turn my phone off when I'm at a public place. I bake when I'm bored. 👩‍🍳 I look very young without makeup on. I love to paint. 🎨 ....although I haven't done it in awhile. I love galaxy print. I used to be more of a risk-taker than I am now. ...and I'd like to start taking risks again. I've made a gingerbread house for a holiday other than Christmas. I wonder if I've met the person I'm going to marry yet. I wonder if I'll ever end up getting married. 💍 I wonder if I'll ever end up having children. �� I wonder if I'd be able to get pregnant. 🤰 I wonder if there really is a God. I don't want to go gray. I don't like my first name. I've had a close friend with the same first name as me. I've read all of the Harry Potter books. 📚 I've read the Twilight trilogy. 📚 I enjoy listening to Lauren Daigle. 🎶 I love listening to songs that I can really relate to. I'm proud of how I overcame depression. I still listen to music on my iPod. I come on Bzoink every day. I used to post in the girlspace.com forums when I was a teenager. I used to play Meez. I own way too many clothes. I've been through something that if I told anyone about, I don't know if they'd believe me. I think I look better with makeup on. 💄 I used play around in Photoshop when I was younger. I've made a collage in Photoshop. I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing on September 11, 2001. I've been friends with someone of another race. I would go back in time and fix my mistakes if I could. I believe in past lives. I'm thankful to have been born in the generation I was born in. I wish I had been born in another era. I've tried macarons and didn't think they were that exciting. I've tried macarons and thought they tasted wonderful. I have a friend who loves Taylor Swift. I had a friend growing up who could play the guitar. I've had a friend who reminded me of another friend. I've seen a picture of a cartoon character and thought, "Hey! That looks like me!" I enjoy watching reruns of America's Got Talent on YouTube. I'm a rare medical case. I don't know anyone else who is going through what I'm going through right now. I've performed in a school talent show. 🎤 I own an orange shirt. I own a pink sweater. I own a black hoodie. I always brought my own lunch to school when I was younger. 🥪 I often have multiple tabs open on my computer. 💻 I have multiple tabs open on my computer right now. I often misplace my phone. 📱 I own a pair of red high heels. 👠 I take way too much medicine. 💊 I don't know what I'm doing. I probably daydream way too much. 💭

[purplesurveys]

1659

a Christmas survey because I’m chasing after my liked surveys which has had an awful backlog for months now 😂

Is Christmas your all-time favorite holiday? If so, why? Not really; personally I find it weird to claim it as my favorite when I don’t even subscribe to the reason it’s celebrated to begin with. If anything my favorite ‘holiday’ is simply my birthday, which I plan for 200x as much as I normally would for Christmas.

Is Christmas more about presents or family? For me it’s largely about the food and enjoying the 2-week work shutdown I get after working all year, lol.

Do you have your Christmas tree and decorations up? We did from October to January, as is the usual case in our home during the Christmas season.

Do you even decorate? We mainly have a Christmas tree up. For a time we had a wreath on our front door, but my mom hasn’t hung it up in years. We don’t put up lights around the tree and the house though, because electricity bills hah.

Have you ever told a person that they are all you want for Christmas? Sure, but it’s your typical cheesy significant other talk. I’ve never meant it as a legitimate wish if that makes sense hahaha.

What are you hoping to get this Christmas? I remember just asking for a restock for my Katinko (didn’t get any, I suppose people thought I meant it as a joke lol) and anything BTS (which I definitely got).

By any chance is it a game console? I haven’t asked for game consoles since I was like 15/16 and wanted a Switch.

Do you even make Christmas lists? You mean a shopping checklist for relatives and friends? If so, then yeah – Filipino families are HUGE and it’s impossible to track gifts without a list.

Are you grateful with anything you get for Christmas? Absolutely. Money’s hard to come by and it means a lot when extended relatives or co-workers I’m not even close with get me something when they don’t have to.

Have you ever given away a gift because you didn't like it? No, I’ve never thought of doing this.

Have you ever gotten a gift that you felt like you couldn't accept? For sure, especially for gifts I know would’ve cost a lot.

Are you going to do any traveling this Christmas? We did Zambales a week before Christmas, but generally we don’t travel during the Christmas week itself as there’s something much more special about celebrating the holidays in your own home. Also, all of our family reunions happen during the week of Christmas itself so those days are always automatically blocked off already early on.

Is anyone coming to visit you for Christmas? It was we who did the visiting. Mom’s side for Christmas Eve; dad’s side for Christmas Day.

In your opinion, what is Christmas really all about? Spending time with family you only see once or twice a year, and being no holds barred when it comes to FOOD, hahaha. Also, having the rare privilege of ignoring work for a couple of weeks.

Do you enjoy the 25 days of Christmas on some TV channels? We don’t have that.

What Christmas movie is your favorite? Love Actually and It’s A Wonderful Life.

Have you seen 'A Christmas Story'? If so, did you like it? I haven’t seen it.

Do you think that 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' is lame or classic? I haven’t seen that either.

What is the first Christmas movie you have seen this month? I didn’t watch any last December.

Do you enjoy listening to Christmas music? It’s fine. Personally, though, I never tune into it unless it’s already like the 24th.

Do you really get involved in the Christmas spirit? No, it’s largely a normal week for me that just comes with the bonus of hanging out with family.

Does the Christmas environment make you feel comfortable? Just to a certain extent. Christmas to me always feels a bit lacking mostly because we rarely have my dad around during the season and I feel bad that he has to spend his Christmas thousands of miles away, and at work at that. I feel the same for employees I encounter during Christmas, like mall staff, baristas, and security guards.

Do you donate toys for the toy drive this time of year? We don’t really have any toy drives around here and even if we did we’d have no toys to donate.

What is the best Christmas gift you have ever received? Paramore tickets from my dad in 2012; BTS albums from one of my aunts last year; and a copy of Petals For Armor + CM Punk shirt + handwritten letter from Andi in 2020.

Have you ever cried on Christmas day? I don’t think I have.

Are you usually the first one to wake up on Christmas day? No.

Are your favorite colors red and green? It’s neither of those.

What colors do you like to see in Christmas lights? Yellow.

Have you ever helped your friends decorate for Christmas? No.

Do your Christmas decorations stay up until New Year's? Yes, as is tradition here.

Are you usually the one that takes down the decorations? My mom will do it herself for the most part, but sometimes she’ll ask us to help.

In your opinion, what is the best gift you have ever given someone? My favorite gift I’ve given is actually something I gave a past partner, but I don’t want to elaborate on that anymore.

Have you ever given someone a gift they didn't like? I’m very sure that’s been the case a few times. Can’t always get it right.

Is it really the thought that counts? Yes.

Do you throw Christmas parties every year? We usually organize a very intimate get-together/dinner with my grandma and cousins on my mom’s side, but it’s hardly a party.

Do you even enjoy Christmas parties? Sure! I love catching up with family and playing along with whatever games or gimmicks the host family would prepare for Christmas parties.

What happened on the worst Christmas you ever had? We weren’t the most financially-stable at the time that we couldn’t even plan our usual Christmas dinner; dad wasn’t home; none of us 3 siblings were able to afford anything to give my mom; and neither side of the family had any party planned out for that year. It was a Christmas where I felt bad both because I felt inadequate and because I knew all my classmates were probably having much bigger celebrations.

Has Christmas been on your mind more and more as the days go by? Definitely not in April but this is also my fault for deciding to take this survey this late, hahaha.

Do you usually count down the days until Christmas? Not anymore but I did as a kid since they had countdowns all the time in morning talk shows and evening news programs.

Do you know people who hate Christmas? I don’t think so. This used to be me but I’ve stopped being so pessimistic about Christmas.

What age did you stop believing in Santa Clause? I never did believe in Santa Claus but it was when I was 5 when I started actively refusing the possibility of him existing, i.e. calling out my mom’s/grandparents’ bullshit when they would say that my gifts came from Santa lol.

Do you host any kind of Christmas event or help with it? Like I said, my family would typically plan an intimate dinner for my grandma and maternal cousins but that’s it. We let other relatives/other sides plan out the bigger and more intricate parties.

Do you like eggnog? I’ve never tried it but I’ve always wanted to!

Have you ever done a 'Secret Santa'? Every Christmas and in various settings – I’ve had it with family, with friends, with classmates, and with co-workers. It’s a major practice here.

Do you hate to see people sad on Christmas? Well, yeah. Especially when every other family seems so happy. 

Have you ever ruined someone else's Christmas? I hope I haven’t?

Do you decorate any online profiles for Christmas? No, I don’t join along in those.

If you could live Christmas over day after day, would you? Nope, that would be so exhausting and would get so repetitive fast.

Do you have any pets that you buy Christmas presents for? Not every Christmas, but sure.

Are you or have you ever been in a Christmas play? If so, which one was it? I haven’t.

Does Christmas get old year after year? Maybe not old but the magic of it does get duller the older you get. Like now that I’m an adult, I largely view Christmas from a practical perspective lol i.e. making shopping checklists, budgeting for the food I’ll shoulder, etc.

Do you like, love, or hate Christmas shopping? A good 90% of it is just SO stressful – from the planning and budgeting, the actual hunting down of gifts, then having to wrap them all. The only time I get to relax and feel happy is when I’m done with it all lol.

Has anyone ever ruined your Christmas? Eh, I wouldn’t say so.

Have you witnessed your neighbors arguing on Christmas? (I have, bad scene) Nope.

Are you working on Christmas? No and at this point you could never pay me enough to do so. Leave me alone on Christmas LOL

Have you ever had to work on Christmas? Yeah, once. At the time though I was a super new hire and wanted nothing more than to prove myself and all, so even though I wasn’t super mandated to work then I decided to just say fuck it and work on the report I needed to finish. 

Have you ever lost someone special on Christmas? No.

Is Christmas better than New Year's or are they both equally awesome? I like New Year’s slightly more because at least all that stress of jumping from one party to another and gift shopping is already over with.

Are you really excited for Christmas? Sure, I guess. I get excited to see family and hand presents.

Did you like this survey? I hope so. Well, bye! ^_^ Sure! Bye!

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

I went to another queer event this evening organised by a different group of people and this one was so great?! I'm supposed to be asleep right now but I'm still buzzing. We went to see the ANNE+ movie (which I recommend! written by a lesbian and a cast full of queer people, without homophobia or transphobia in the film and quite a lot of queer joy). After the film we talked for a long time, just me and those 4 other people. We all have different identities and different backgrounds, they are closer to my age than the people at the other events this week, and I felt super at ease. (As in, I actually talked a lot and made the bad jokes I only make with people who know me well.) This has been the most pleasant in-person interaction I've had in years, certainly one of the most pleasant ones ever when it comes to being in a small group of people. I'm excited to go to future events by them! This event was not part of the rainbow week, but this was the one that had it all for me. Not bad for socially anxious/awkward me in my first week of going to lgbtqia+ events.

[slurp-imagines]

I love your writing so much! I was wondering if I could request luffy, zoro and sanji headcanons about their s/o being kidnapped to be married?

thank you anon! <3 sorry this took a while, I hope this measures up to expectations. kind of imagined it as a WCI-esque scenario. very high stakes, very strong kidnappers etc.

When their s/o is kidnapped to be married: Luffy, Zoro, & Sanji

Monkey D. Luffy

↳ We kind of know already because of what happened to Sanji lol. But when it’s his s/o? It’s a new level of personal for him

↳ The way he would TEAR across the ocean for you. With Sanji, Luffy could be reasonably patient because he knew when the wedding was & that they’d make it in time. But in this case, there’s just a restlessness to him that he can’t shake. He wants you back, now. He wants you in his arms, now. He wants to see you safe and he wants to make things right– and he wants that now.

↳ But still, him wanting it obviously doesn't make it true. (Or not immediately anyway, lol.) So while they’re traveling to you, he's just weirdly solemn and stony... Sitting on the lion head and staring hard at the open ocean type of vibe. And sure, he does that often, but this tension isn't usually accompanying it. And needless to say, no one likes seeing him upset.

↳ The rest of the Strawhats probably end up taking turns trying to distract him. It works for a little bit at a time, too. He'll listen to Brook's music or go fishing with Usopp or enjoy the treats Sanji offers him. He'll enjoy himself and he'll enjoy being with his friends... Until he looks for you to join in on the fun, and then he remembers that you're gone.

↳ He doesn't like brooding, though. It's so upsetting and angering that you were taken, but he tries to channel it into action. He just can't wait to get at the crew that kidnapped you. He's literally raring and ready to go as soon as their ship is in sight. Probably flings himself over there the second someone says the ship is in sight

↳ LOTS and lots of hugs once y'all are finally reunited. He's grinning from ear to ear all day, he's so glad you're safe. He's glued to your side!

Roronoa Zoro

↳ It sets his blood boiling.

↳ Zoro is mentally kicking himself every second of the day until they get you back & even long after. He can’t stand the thought that he wasn’t there to protect you, or far worse, if he was there and failed to protect you from your kidnappers.

↳ He doesn’t feel restless like Luffy. It’s the exact opposite, really– Zoro is laser focused. All of his emotions go straight into training, into preparing for your rescue. He can’t have a second wasted. Chopper probably worries a lot that he's overworking himself, but Zoro is just. Relentless.

↳ He can't even speak once you're reunited. He can't do anything but hold you tightly against his chest for a long few moments, and just breathe until he feels his spirit settle. There was probably so much tension in his body that he didn't even realize he was holding this whole time, not until he finally has you with him again and he can spare a moment to feel relieved.

↳ When the two of you pull apart, he looks you up and down for injuries. Even if he doesn't see any, even if he dreads the answer, he still asks you if anyone has hurt you. Good luck to anyone who did. :)

↳ He usually isn't the type to dwell on the past, but this incident probably haunts him for a while. Not that he gets swept away by the memory of it, but it's something that he briefly recalls while he's training, or while he's up against a strong opponent. And the all-consuming dread of that moment where he learned you were taken, just washes over him anew, and recedes as quickly as it arrived. It always puts a new gust of wind in his sails, makes him push himself that much harder.

↳ He can't stand the thought that anything like this could happen again, and especially not because of his own weakness.

Sanji

↳ Outwardly, Sanji tries to keep a brave face, but privately, he’s horrified. The crew notices, but they're kind enough not to comment directly.

↳ "Don't worry. We're gonna get Y/N back." The crew tells him this so many times. Sometimes it calms him for a little while, particularly when it's Luffy or Robin saying it. Hell, even Zoro telling him so (in less-kind way) could make him believe it a little more. But he can't always help the nagging insecurity in him, the horrible "What if? What if, what if, what if" questions that plague his mind the entire time you're gone.

↳ He remembers all of his time when he was on Whole Cake Island and hopes to everything that you aren’t even half as miserable right now as he was back then. But he can't stop his imagination from running. Every single time, he thinks he's come up with the worst-case scenario. But soon enough he'll think up something even worse.

↳ Sanji tries really hard to distract himself. Training, cooking, organizing and re-organizing the pantry. Sometimes he can't keep his hands from shaking. Sometimes he just needs to stop what he's doing and pace the room, running his hands through his hair over and over. He goes through cigarettes faster than he ever has, and doesn't realize it until he looks into his last box and there's only one left. Which just stresses him out even more.

↳ But after all of that turmoil, he's surprisingly composed during the rescue. Not that he isn't angry; he's absolutely seething. But he's incredibly focused, his mind is on one track the entire time and that's getting you back. And once you're in his arms again– safe, battles over and done with– it's like all the strength just leaves his body at once. He'd literally collapse with you in his arms, shaking. He'd had so much raw fear pent up this whole time, the relief of finally being with you again is enormous.

[give-soup-please]

I’m not sure if the asks sent before the hiatus have been thrown out for the free for all or not so I’m sending this just in case, What would happen if a musically inclined reader made a song for the narrator (along the lines of Libertango by scaricatori bcuz something about that screams narrator to me). Thanks for being one of the best TSP Drabble writers! I can say for sure lots of us will remember you long after you stop writing, and your archive will be found by plenty of new people too. ❤️ 🍲

Narrator and reader who has made a song for him

(I appreciate your words! Sorry this one took so long.)

You were inspired by him to create a work of art? His smugness is almost big enough to warp the fabric of reality.

“Of course you were inspired by my artistic genius! My story is the perfect source of inspiration for others.”

You tell him that you didn’t make the song for his story, you made it for him.

His ego swells even further, but there’s some other emotion just underneath. “Oh, how wonderful. To be an inspiration myself, well-” His breath catches in his throat. Something’s happening to him. This is a very meaningful gift. A declaration that he was worthy of someone else’s artistic energy. He’s loved to the point of creation. 

You’ve put time and effort into something, just for him? What a rare and precious gift. He’s caught up in an emotional swirl, and he hasn’t even heard the song yet.

You press play, and he’s struck by the strings. Such drama, such passion… This is something he could dance to. A tango, maybe. He’s filled with the overwhelming need to move with you in his arms.

The bass thrums in his ears, and if he has a heartbeat, it’s speeding up. It’s incredible!

As soon as he has the melody, he’s humming along and tapping his fingers. Music is one of the most powerful forces in the world, and he’s definitely feeling its effects now.

You… made this for him? He’s awestruck. 

“It’s stupendous! Marvelous! Astounding! Absolutely phenomenal…”

He’s going to listen to it on loop for the rest of the day, and possibly after that.

This is proof of your affection for him, platonic or otherwise. He knows for certain. He has evidence that he can listen to on loop, for as long as he needs. If you get tired of reassuring him, he can just listen to this, and be satisfied that you regard him highly.

You have no idea how happy you’ve made him, how glad he is that you’re in his life. You’ve done something so incredible, so beautiful. He’s all about creation, it’s one of his main aspects as a storyteller. For you to participate in something he does on a regular basis- but it’s not even that, it’s more.

For a few moments, his heart is full. He doesn't need any more adoration or positive reviews. He has everything he needs. Proof that he matters, that he’s had an impact. He can’t get over it. Anyone who has the capacity to hear him will hear him talk about this at length. You’ve given him something absolutely priceless.  

[writingfool001]

Ever since I found out about NRC have a light music club, a K-on ask is rather rare.

So I would like a headcanon of Kalim, Cater and Lilia's reaction of s/o not only a former light music club member but her genre was actually rock like Sawako-sensei

https://youtu.be/yIny4KUrYC8

Female S/O is a Former Music Light Club Member and

Hello Simply, hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself. This request had me diving back into all the rock music I listened to growing up and some new stuff. Hope you enjoy!!!!!!!

WARNING: LONG POST 

You peaked your head into the Light Music Clubroom to see no one there before letting a sigh of relief and entered with your case in hand with your bag, closing the door gently with your foot. You needed a place to practice and possibly record some audio for the day since you didn’t want to disturb Grim or the ghosts at Ramshackle.  

You set your bag and case down before pulling up a chair and began to pull out your equipment for your usual set up, humming a tune to yourself. You set up your laptop and amplifier before grabbing your guitar case and opening it. You stare at the picture you had pinned on the inside of your case, remembering all the good times you had with that group.

The picture had a handful of students smiling with their designated instrument and in the same room, just two looked familiar. One looking like a younger version of Sam and the other, an older version of you.

Everyone thinks you’re a newbie to being in the Twisted Wonderland, yet no one wondered how you knew a majority of the answers on test or the material. Or location of things without question or why you were so very friendly with Sam. You would just tell people that you’re just friendly and hear about things while walking down the hall.

You haven’t told anyone yet that you used to be a student at NRC, you may not look it, but you were older here since age and time seem to be different between where you came from and here. You got older during your time at NRC, but went back to your world, looking the way as you came. A couple of years passed before being thrown back into this world for good, since you didn’t really have a reason to stay in your old world. Yet when you came back, Crowley was surprised to see you again and said nothing as you two went through the entrance ceremony.

You explained to Crowley what happened and your current situation while Grim was asleep. Meaning the charade about finding you a way home was fake, you both have been keeping it up for a while now. Sam got a kick out of it, seeing your younger form and keeps calling you little demon as a joke, while Mozus was a bit relieved that he would have you included in the small group of decent first years. Lucius was thrilled to see you again and sits in your lap during class. It seems Sam kept your old electric guitar, still in the case where you left it after graduation and threw in an amplifier with any other equipment you would need to rock out like you used to. He only asks to hear any of your new work and to get a shout out if you got famous.

You tuned your guitar along with your voice and messed with the settings before doing a random song as a warm up for your fingers and vocal cords. Once you were done with warming up, you adjusted the amp and before starting to work on your main piece. Little did you know that you had an audience forming.

Kalim:

He managed to escape Jamil and headed to meet up with Cater and Lilia for Magic Light Club, skipping along as he hummed a tune, he played on his instrument earlier. He overheard electric guitar playing came from the clubroom, must be Lilia practicing. His hand reaches for the doorknob before hearing a female voicing sing, that definitely wasn't Lilia. Quietly, he opened the door a crack to peek in to see you, rocking out and singing.

He was enchanted by you, you were in your own headspace while pouring your all into your performance. He never knew that you played or sang until now which he has fallen more head over heels for you.  

He continues to watch you as Cater and Lilia joined watching after he told him, you were performing without knowing he was there. He and Cater were fangirling over you and sneakily took pictures. Towards the end of your song, Lilia motions them to be quiet and they all sneaked in, so by the end of your last note, you were welcomed by applause. Kalim was clapping the loudest as he cheered. He praises you for your performance and asks you a bunch of questions while you stay during club hours that day. ��

After that day, he would come over to Ramshackle to hang out while you worked on pieces. You taught him how to play a couple of notes, he’s proud of himself. You basically babysit hm, giving Jamil a break, and keep him distracted enough to stay out of trouble. He bought you new equipment and even offered you a new guitar, you declined and told him this one was special to you. He noticed how you had some stickers on your case and asked where you got them, so you tell him how you got them without revealing too much to him.

Cater:

He was scrolling through Magicam as he walked to Magic Light Club, before noticing Kalim peaking inside of the clubroom. He tapped his shoulder, catching Kalim's attention, and questioned why he wasn’t inside. Kalim quickly shushed him and told him you were performing before cracking the door open to see you, passionately singing while shredding it on the guitar.  

He knew that you played because of what he would hear from Ace and Deuce, it also explained why your fingertips felt a bit rough whenever you two held hands. Hearing you perform, he realized how much more talent you had and how passionate you were about playing rock.

You sounded heavenly and your fingers changed from note to note, masterfully. He took many pictures and a video of you playing, planning on posting it later, before Lilia showed up and joined their little watch party.  When they snuck in, he got a better view of you in your own headspace as you played and sang your heart out.

Once you finished, Cater cheered alongside the other two and laughed at the surprised fluster look on your face. He playfully pouted and told you how dare you hide this beautiful talent of yours from me before laughing at you, trying to apologize. He would ask questions about you playing guitar.

He asked if it was okay for him to post the video and the day after, his post got a lot of attention. People asking about you and your work while you were freaking out about the number of people who liked and commented. Cater jokes with you saying he’s dating a talented musician and kissing your callous fingers. He would post pictures of you and him on his account, whether you’re in your makeshift studio or just out. People love seeing you two together and ask if he’s inspired any of your pieces.

He also gives you a picture of you both to put in your case, saying if you get famous, you’ll remember him. You reassured him you weren't going to leave him, even if you got famous. There’s only one lover you need, and it’s Cater.

Lilia:

Electric guitar buddies!!!!

He was headed to club when he noticed cater and Kalim outside, peaking inside of the clubroom. He floated upward to get a better view and to his surprise, you were playing an electric guitar and singing. He somewhat knew about you being able to play from malleus and some of his own spy missions.

He watched as you shred a couple cords, masterfully, and sang your heart out to an empty room, such a shame for no one to see this from you. Until the idea of sneaking in and watching quietly came up, he made sure the other two stayed quiet while sneaking in and silently watching as you got towards the end of your set.

Chuckling at your flustered face as they applauded your performance, he floated over above you and teased you about never playing in front of him. He would also ask you questions, after convincing you to stay and help them with any issues and notice the picture in your case while you were packing up.

He would invite you more to magic light club, saying you could play freely with them, and spend time with you, even if you two were just having a jam session. You would tell him to warn Malleus about when you would play so then you don’t disturb his walks, which Lilia finds sweet of you.

He would ask about the people in the picture and point out about how one of them looks awfully similar to you with a playful grin on his face. He would eventually get it out of you to explain everything. He would be a bit surprised to hear that you’re older than you look, but that would make two of you. He would ask about some stories of how you were back then. He was just glad Fate decided to bring you back and you decided to stay for the rest of your life with him.

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[boldlyvoid]

can u do a blurb about reader wanting a baby and asking her co-worker Spencer to be the donor because he's smart and nice and she wants a cute baby?

you said blurb and i read 2K word fic apparently lmao

Late nights behind a desk were the worst. Y/N hated reading over case file, after case file, of horrific things as she tried to choose where they went next.

The only plus side was that she wasn’t alone, Spencer was at his desk just beside her. Like he always was. They had an interesting friendship, to say the least.

Ever since Y/N joined the BAU, Spencer and her were glued at the hip. They had all the same interests, liked the same music and movies, and they spat out information the same way, they were like each other’s dorky other half— but it was just a friendship.

They had a tradition to watch at least one movie together after a case, to just chill for a bit together. Always randomly picking one of their apartments to go to, spending the night together until one of them eventually wandered off to bed. Leaving the other on the couch.

They weren’t aware of their feelings for each other for a while. Both of them being so used to being alone, and never having anyone be interested in them before. It was hard to understand if the feelings they had were pure friendship, or if it could ever be more. If the sex would fuck everything up and take away that perfect happy place they found in each other, or would it make the bond stronger?

She noticed the crush before Spencer showed any signs of liking her back. She woke up every morning thinking of him, that's when she came to the conclusion that it was more than just a friendship. She wanted him in her life forever, she wanted to kiss his perfect lips and hug his soft body, wake up beside his messy hair and just love him for the rest of eternity.

She sighed as she picked up another file, not excited to learn about the horrible acts taking place in what people called, “the best country in the world.” She’d disagree any day of the week.

This one was a file about some missing kids apparently being spotted in a van altogether in Georgia, it looked interesting enough to be the next case. She hated reading all the info, seeing every kid's happy face in the file knowing that’s not how they looked now.

“Good god,” she groaned as she flipped through the case.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked over the divider.

“Nothing,” she shrugged, “just a bad case.”

She handed it to him over the desk, hearing him flip through all the sheets as he read a million words a minute. “We should show this to Emily first thing,” Spencer agreed, pushing himself over to her desk in his wheely chair.

“I will,” she smiled softly, taking the file back from him and placing it on her desk.

Spencer stood then, making his way into her space and rubbing his hand over her back slightly. “Are you okay?”

She sighed, “actually. no, I was telling Garcia I want to have a baby soon, and then I see things like this and I’m scared to do it alone but I don’t have any other option?” Ranting to him like he was her therapist.

“What do you mean?”

She turned in her chair to look up at him, his soft brown eyes really caring to hear the answer. “Sit,” she insisted.

He pulled the chair over more, sitting close enough that their knees touched. “I’m 36, I’m not having any luck finding a husband or a wife, I want a baby and if I have to do it myself I will, but what if I’m not enough? What if I have a boy and he grows up to be a killer cause he never had a dad?”

“Y/N,” Spencer’s voice was soft as he looked at her with a confused scrunch on his face. “That couldn’t happen, you’re a wonderful person, I love having you on the team and in my life, I know you’d raise good kids, you should do it.”

“Really?” She beamed at him, the words touching her heart and making her swoon a bit.

“I mean, it would be hard,” he added reason to the conversation. “You’d have to take time off, which would be good for bonding. My mother raised me alone and I turned out semi-fine, I don't hold any resentment for her not finding someone for me to call dad or even step-mom for that matter. I think if you give them all the love in the world like I know you’re capable of, your child will love you like you’re their whole world.”

She laughed as she noticed the tears welling in her eyes, waving her hand's in front of her face so she wouldn’t fully sob. “Do you want to be the donor?” She made a joke to change the topic.

Spencer laughed then too, “sure!”

Everything got serious again then, she looked at him a little differently. “Really? Cause honestly, you’re like a Grade A donor profile in the most expensive clinic!” She couldn’t help herself from laughing again at the absurdity.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad, 40 isn’t too old to have a child, is it?” He seemed to have decided that rather fast.

“Okay,” she nodded with a smile, “okay. That’s cool, sick,” she felt the words get smaller as she thought it over.

“I get it if you were kidding,” Spencer spat out. “I realize now that you might have been making a joke, I hope it’s not weird that I agreed so fast, it’s just that I think you’re a very beautiful and smart woman and the idea of helping you make a child makes me really excited. I think it would be a very good idea if you were being serious, but I get it if you’re not.”

She let him get it all out, always loving when he got like this on a case or in person, nervous or just because he wanted to talk, she loved to listen. And no one ever let him finish his thoughts, always wanting to beat him to the punch.

“Spence, I think you’re really handsome and smart too,” she smiled. “If you’re also serious, I am too.”

“How would we?” He asked as he pulled at the top button of his dress shirt, swallowing like he couldn't breathe all of a sudden.

“If you’re not opposed, I’m sure the good old-fashioned way would work?” She laughed, laying her hand on his knee softly.

It was like sparks flew at that moment as if all the fluorescent lights in the bullpen could have exploded and she wouldn’t have even noticed. Captivated by Spencer's eyes as he gasped at her touch.

“Not opposed in the slightest,” he said softly as he held his own hand over hers.

She couldn’t help herself from smiling. “Well, I think I’m all done here if you want to come to my place for a movie?”

“Sure,” he replied, offering her a hand as they stood up together.

He returned his chair to his desk, both of them grabbing their coats and bags and rejoining at the door.

“I should go say goodnight to Penny,” Y/N said softly. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah,” he followed her through the door and down the hall to the tech room.

“Knock knock,” Y/N said as she walked through the open door. “Oh great and knowledgeable one, I’ve come with my nightly farewell.”

“Oh my knight, I shall miss you,” Penelope played along, sauntering over to her and wrapping her up in a hug. “I leave you with this until your return.”

“Through scorching deserts, and blistering winds, I will make it back to you, always,” she tried not to laugh as she hugged her back. “I also brought forth the jester.”

Spencer was laughing in the doorway as the two of them looked at him, “hi?”

“The pretty boy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Um,” Y/N smiled, “Spencer and I are just going back for our nightly movie.”

Penelope looked at both of them, jaw slightly gaped, “nightly? I thought it was a case by case thing?”

“It’s a good excuse for us to talk,” Spencer smiled at her.

“Mhmm,” she smirked, “well have fun.”

She pulled Y/N back into another hug, hiding her face from Spencer, “I need all the dirty deets in the morning.”

Y/N smacked her arm softly as she pulled back, “goodnight pretty penny.”

“Farewell brave knight, handle with care, Jester,” Penelope pointed her finger at him, giving him a knowing glance.

“Yes, oh Knowledgeable one, always,” he blushed.

He reached out his hand for Y/N, interlocking their fingers as they left her office and headed towards the elevator. A rare moment of bravery on his part, holding hands like this didn’t spread a lot of germs.

“We’re going to have to discuss a lot of logistics like realistically this isn’t going to be just a fuck and oh look its a baby. This is a real live baby that we need to raise and care for,” she reminded him as the elevator doors shut.

“I’d like to be as involved as you’d let me be,” Spencer replied. “I don’t have to be 'dad' to them, I could be uncle Spence that’s fine too.”

“Oh no, you’d be Dad for sure,” she nudged him slightly. “I mean like, weekends and holidays and birthdays, your mom will want to see them surely, my parents will want to see them. Housing,” she looked at him horrified. “I have an apartment with 2 bedrooms, I don’t think I could let them sleep somewhere without me.”

“I have been looking at houses,” Spencer added before the doors opened to the garage, “you’re driving right?”

“Yeah, you were saying?” She replied, digging her keys out of her purse and leading him towards the car.

“Derek Morgan, I’m not sure if you’ve met him yet, he fixes up old homes in DC and Virginia now. He just finished one and I helped him with it. I think I’m going to buy it from him. It has 4 bedrooms, we could all live under the same roof? It would be easier to co-parent.”

She was amazed at how fast he adapted to this as if he’d been having the same thoughts she was having. At a certain point wanting kids becomes a pipe dream filled with desperation and emptiness, he looks like he’s experienced it too.

She opened her door and sat down before replying to him again. Thinking about how wonderful he was going to be during this process, “thank you, Spencer.”

“For what?” He asked as they both closed their doors.

She sighed, relaxing into her seat as she started the car. She turned to him softly, not wanting to cry as she spoke softly. “Being a mom is more of a dream to me than joining the BAU was, this is the best gift you could give me.”

He reached his hand out again, holding it softly. Running his thumb over her knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah,” she nodded softly.

He couldn’t make eye contact with her, staring at their hands as he rubbed her skin.

“Um, I’ve been pretty infatuated with you since you joined,” he let it out finally. Like a ton of bricks off his back he relaxed a bit, “after everything with Maeve, Cat and Max… oh god, and JJ... I was so worried that if I got too close to you I’d lose you. I tried to keep the feelings in, that's why I said what I did to Penelope. She knows how I feel about you.”

It was like fireworks were going off in her chest as the butterflies erupted inside of her. She sat up, turning to him more and ripping her hand from his grasp.

It startled him, he looked at her anxiously as if she was going to yell at him. But she placed both hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss.

His arms snaked around her waist, wishing they could get closer if it wasn’t for the damn centre console of her car. Pressing their lips together, hard, as they breathed each other in. Desperation taking control, she wasn’t able to let go of him.

When she finally did pull away, however, the look on his face was priceless. Like expensive art, every line and freckle had a meaning. He was surprised, enamoured, grateful, desperate for more.

She smiled softly, rubbing her thumbs over his cheek. “Good, cause it would be awkward having your baby and not getting to love you every day too.”

taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[reidsnose]

love letters

overview: spencer has a wonderful idea after finding out that reader had never gone to her senior prom

genre: fluff fluff fluff

a/n: i mixed two ideas that have been sitting in my notes app for this lol but i think its sweet!! i wrote it a little rushed and definitely not bc im not getting a prom this year due to miss rona👀 LMAO but as always please lmk what yall think ab it :)

masterlist

-

the idea had fully occupied his thoughts the second after the words left your mouth.

it was "the buttcrack of dawn" as you had called it, though spirits were high on the late jet ride home. it was a rare but much needed positive end to the case, and everyone was happily chatting with each other. since the case was involving high schoolers, the subject fell on prom. everyone went around sharing their prom stories one by one, recalling awful dresses and questionable dates til the questions turned to spencer.

"what ab you, pretty boy, what was your prom like?" morgan asked, still smiling widely from recalling his own.

you watched spencer shift uncomfortably for a second.

"i uh..i never went to prom." he stammered, a tight lipped smile on his face.

"no! you just dont wanna tell us!" prentiss cried, throwing her hands in the air.

"i graduated high school when i was 12! why would i have gone to prom?" he reasoned.

"you had to have gone when you were older or something! everyone has!" jj countered.

"thats not true, i never went to prom either," you defended, subconsciously inching closer to spencer.

before anyone could even ask you to explain why, spencer got the idea. he mentally left the conversation after you gave your answer. he spent the whole rest of the ride home and the next couple of weeks brain storming and planning.

and casually after work one day, as he was walking you to your car, he asked you if you wanted to hang out with him that weekend; at his house.

you and Spencer had hung out before, but mostly at your house or at coffee shops; he didn't invite people over very often.

of course you agreed but you grew confused when he told you to dress fancy.

you raced home afterwards to raid your closet, looking for any fancy dresses you may have stuffed in there.

spencer spent the whole day preparing his apartment. he put up streamers and balloons. he made a playlist of all your favorite songs. and then he rushed to get his clothes from the cleaners.

and when you knocked at his door the breath that left your lungs struggled to come back after he opened the door.

he stood in a gorgeous suit, different than he had ever worn to work. he rubbed the back of his neck and gestured to the living room, revealing the adorable (albeit poorly made but its the thought that counts) decorations.

"um.. welcome to prom," he said, turning back to you, revealing a blushy smile.

he tried not to stare too much at you, but it was difficult. your eyes sparkled as you stepped inside and looked around. and the dress you were wearing fit you so gorgeously he truly couldnt take his eyes off of you.

"spencer, i..." you trailed off, enchanted by what he had done.

"sorry if it looks bad. or if you think its weird that i did this. i just thought cause neither of us went to prom maybe you wanted to have a little one with me? yeah now that i say it out loud maybe you hate it im sorr-" he rambled behind you.

you turned quickly to him as he got lost in his words, eyes glued to the floor. cutting him off by wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him as tight as you could. you could feel the tension leave his body as he melted into the embrace, returning it gladly. he doesn't like to be touched by anyone really, except for you.

"i love it. thank you," you whispered, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.

he has a spread of snacks lying out on the coffee table which he has mooved to the corner of the room to make space for a makeshift dancefloor.

he turns on the music and you two start talking and dancing and laughing. two fools with four left feet completely and obliviously in love. well, oblivious the the other anyway.

a slower song came on, an old one that you had wanted to slow dance to ever since you were a little girl. and somehow naturally you two came together, his hand dropped to your waist, the other delicately cradling your own. your other hand found its way up to his shoulder, feeling as though a magnet was pulling you two closer. and closer.

he looked absolutely stunning. the soft lights he had strung around the apartment sparkled like stars in his eyes; its was...dizzying, in the most incredible way.

unbeknownst to you, as you stared at the stars in his eyes he was looking at his whole world that he had been somehow lucky enough to hold in his arms.

he held his arm out, allowing you to spin and when he pulled you back both of your arms ended up wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist. you were less dancing now and more...hugging. with your head pressed to his chest, he hoped with all his might that you wouldn't be able to hear his hammering heart. you most definitely could, but it was calming to know he was as nervous as you were. you smiled, listening more to his heart than the music he had played for you.

you were both sure that you could burst from pure bliss. the song ended a little too quickly for either of your liking and reluctantly you let go of each other. and suddenly Spencer was hit with the realization that he forgot something.

"oh my gosh," his eyes widened as he looked around the room.

"what?" you asked, mirroring him and looking as well.

"i can't remember where i left your corsage! i was gonna give it to you at the door but i forgot!" he exclaimed, running around the room checking shelves.

you smiled to yourself. he got you a corsage!

"ill help you look" you decided.

"please do," he chuckled.

"i thought you had an eidetic memory, shouldn't you know where you left it?" you joked, shooting him a smug smile.

"y/n, my brain was all jumbled to day and it wasn't just from being around you," he realized what he had said and quickly turned back to the shelf he was looking at, "could you check in my room please?"

his heart was racing at his own stupidity; how could he just say that so nonchalantly? he had been planning to tell you that he liked you for the longest time he cant afford slipping up and having it be anything less than perfect.

you slipped into his room, your cheeks warm from the idea that you make his big brain all jumbled. he probably didn't mean it like that, you were just looking too much into it.

you sighed as you crouched to look under his bed for it. you found a small wooden box that you slid out from underneath. it had your name on it.

is it normal to keep a corsage in a wooden box? you wouldn't know, you never went to prom.

you shrugged your shoulders, "i found it spence!"

with out thinking you opened the box, except instead of a band of flowers you were greeted with letters, all addressed to you. there were annotations written in the margins with purple ink. you furrowed your eyebrows as you scanned the various letters.

dear y/n,

today you complimented my glasses and my heart skipped a beat. thats dumb spencer dont start like that

dear y/n,

im in love with you. too forward

dear y/n,

you make life worth living. shes gonna think youre a creep

you felt a rush of euphoria fill your chest. did he really feel these things for you? your thoughts swirled in the most wonderful way. a wide smile broke across your face, butterflies running rampage through your stomach as you reread his words. his words addressed to you.

"oh thank God i really thought i lost-oh. oh no." spencer started as he walked through the door of his room immediately walking back out. you followed, blinking your watery eyes at him. "i can explain.

"i think youve explained enough, theres like 20 letters in here!" you chuckled, flipping through them.

"i didnt know how to tell you and i dont want to ruin what we already have and i-"

"it wasnt too forward." you stated, grabbing one of the letters.

"what?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"in this one," you held up the letter, "you wrote dear y/n, im in love with you. and then you crossed it out and wrote that it was too forward but i dont think it was."

"youre not mad?"

"mad? spencer ive been trying to admit the fact that im in love with you since i realized it myself, why would i be mad?"

"youre..you feel the same way?" he looked back up at you, a hesitant smile pulling on the corners of his lips.

"more so," you beamed, stepping closer.

he wrapped his arms around you, "thats good or else the rest of this prom would have sucked."

you chuckled, pulling him impossibly closer to you as another perfect song played.

-

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