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jhilsara · 11 hours ago
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Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 3
Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader
Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid
Summary: Another year goes by and your friendship with Spencer is better than ever… too bad its a rough year. A birthday surprise, another Halloween adventure together (but make it a musical), Sister fights, and you finally find out what Spencer's day job is.
Word Count: 11.5k
Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, bank robbery, Season 7 finale
Previous|Next
The one where Spencer turns 30  
Spencer hasn’t left his apartment much lately. Besides going out for calls at the BAU and working on finding Ian Doyle, he doesn’t have much energy for anything else. Except for the new doctor he was seeing for his migraines. She was actually helpful in comparison to the others he had seen.   
It’s only been four months since Emily Prentiss died and Spencer doesn’t feel any lighter. He just seems to be spending more time debating on whether he’d feel better if he started using again. At least he’d be numb. Feeling numb sounded better than being miserably sad at the loss of one of his closest friends. He knows in the back of his mind, if he did start using dilaudid again he wouldn’t be able to truly put his all into the Ian Doyle investigation. That’s what keeps him content to stay sober.   
Spencer hasn’t visited the bookstore, not nearly as much as he used to. It’s enough to cause worry so you’ve started to call him at least once a week. He’s sure that you probably wanted to call every day. You worry and fret over him, and he knows it’s just a part of who you are, but he doesn’t feel deserving of the attention.   
Especially when you take it upon yourself to visit occasionally.   
He always opens the door for you, he can’t help it, he doesn’t want to worry you. Even though when he looks at your face, he sees the clear concern behind your eyes.   
He always knows when it’s you because your warmth and brightness almost roll off in waves that gently brush and seep under the doorway. You’re a force of nature. One where you shed some color into his incredibly bleak world.   
The only other friend who checks on him in the same kind of way would be Penelope. Which, she’s grieving in a very different way. It’s also hard for any of them to talk about Emily together without it being tainted by their Doyle investigation. He knows this isn’t a healthy coping mechanism, but he’ll be damned if he stops looking for the man that took away part of his family.    
There’s an ease and tenderness that comes with you. You've never pushed him to tell you what’s wrong. You'll ask, always testing the waters, shaking his raft, but you never push. You don’t force him down into the depths of his own consuming thoughts. The ones where he thinks he’s drowning and can’t recover from. The ones where all of his intrusive thoughts prick at his brain like tiny needles, trying to prove nonexistent points.   
It wasn’t that you weren’t curious, because you definitely are. Sometimes when he closed off the conversation, he could see the hurt in your eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, because Spencer would trust you with anything, you’re his best friend outside of the BAU. He even spent last New Years with you and your dad, Big Joe. Well, mostly you had made dinner, they watched Big Joe’s favorite movie, which Spencer happily listened to him give all his endless movie knowledge. After you put your dad to bed, they went out to a bar for a few midnight drinks.    
Spencer just preferred to keep the FBI parts of his life out of his personal life. It’s been refreshing to not be a federal agent when he’s with you. If he had to explain everything about Ian Doyle and Emily’s death... he was slightly afraid you wouldn’t want him in your life anymore.    
Or worse, he’d endanger you like Hotch had with Haley...   
So, Spencer does what he truly does best, holds his feelings close to his chest with his secrets. If your smile faltered when he couldn’t tell you what was happening, he’d bite his tongue. He couldn’t lose another friend. Not you. Even if his secrets kept you at arm's length.   
-   
It’s a random day in the middle of August when Spencer finally walks back into the bookstore. It surprised you so much you ram yourself into the edge of the checkout counter. You curse under your breath but shoot him a hesitant smile.    
“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” you softly said as you placed the books down to give him your full attention. Almost approaching him like he is a wounded animal. 
Spencer nods, “world keeps spinning, life goes on.” he said with a small shrug and a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.   
He couldn’t tell you that his dead friend faked her death and was alive all along. Just in Paris... while two of his friends lied to his face. That absolutely isn’t a can of worms he’s willing to unload onto you. Not today, maybe not ever. He still had some anger to process that he doesn’t want to direct towards you. Spencer takes a deep breath and starts walking toward the cafe.    
You followed after him and smiled brightly. “Well, I’m glad to see you anyway.” you touch his shoulder lightly. “I’ve been worried about you.” you said warmly as you move behind the counter to make him a coffee.    
“I didn’t want to worry you,” He starts to rebuttal, but you cut him off.    
“I was going to worry regardless; I don’t know how to turn it off unfortunately.” you tried to joke lightly.    
Spencer just furrows his brows, “Do you worry about everything?” he asked. It comes across harsher than he means it to, but it rolls off your back.    
“No, just about people. I’m worried about Birdie, like all the time, not to mention dad. I’m also constantly thinking about my coworkers, Josie... My friends in Georgia...” you pause and bites your lip.    
“That probably sounds like I don’t do anything else besides worry.”    
“It sounds like anxiety.” he deadpanned.    
You shrugged and offered him his coffee. “Probably.”    
“Oh! Spencer, since you’re here!” you quickly change the subject whirling around to the computer, “Do me a favor and sign up for our new rewards program. I need a test guinea pig to make sure it actually tracks the points.”    
Spencer nods and waits. You swiftly tap information into the computer screen.    
“It’s only a few questions,” you murmured, “Full name...Spencer Reid. Date of birth-” you froze looking up at Spencer.   
“I don’t know your birthday.” you said it like it was a genuine surprise and frown. “We’ve known each other for almost three years, how do I not know your birthday?”   
Spencer gave a soft chortle of amusement, “I’ve never been in town for my birthday. I’m weirdly always out for work. Besides-” he shrugged. “I don’t know yours either.”    
You dramatically groan. “I cannot believe I didn’t know this! Birthdays are so important!”    
Spencer tilts his head curiously, “I didn’t know you liked birthdays that much?”   
“Don’t you? It’s the one day to truly celebrate a person. I mean you don’t need a day to do that, but doesn’t everyone want to feel special just one day? I mean you make your way around life another year and you should earn just a little treat for it! Living sucks sometimes.” you said matter of factly.    
You're so passionate as you talk, Spencer almost forgets it’s even about birthdays.     
Spencer paused before his brain autofill's information like a search engine, “Did you know that the birthday celebration actually started in ancient Egypt with Pharoh's? It wasn’t for common folk at all. They acted as a coronation for a Pharoh. Greeks and Romans adopted them for their worship of the gods but really, individual birthdays weren’t well known. For a long time in history.” Spencer info dumps what he knew and smiled triumphantly.    
You nod, listening, you always listened to Spencer when he had the wealth of knowledge to just disperse whenever. It was charming.   
“Sooooooo, what I’m hearing is, we should celebrate everyone like they are their own gods?” you tease him.   
Spencer rolls his eyes, “Not what I meant.”    
You hummed in amusement, “Well, I’ll be the judge of that.” You smiled, like you had a secret. “What’s your birthday Spencer?”    
“October 12th 1981.” He tells you with a sigh.    
You plug it into the computer, and you realize quickly that Spencer’s about to turn 30. You looked up at him, “That’s only a few months away. Makes sense it’s October.”    
Spencer fakes a dramatic gasp as he looks at you in shock, “What’s that supposed to mean?”    
You give him a deadpan look as you finish typing in the rest of his information. “It means- that for someone who loves Halloween it doesn’t surprise me you were born in October.”    
“What’s your e-mail?” you asked him.    
“I only have my work one and I’m not using that for your rewards program.” He said in fake exasperation, “By your logic,” he picked back up their conversation, “that means you also were born in October.”    
You make a fake buzzer noise, “Nope!” you pop the P. “Try again.”   
Spencer raises a brow, “There is a 1 in 365 chance for me to guess right. That’s not even one percent.”    
“Do you care if I just put in my e-mail? We’re just testing it, I’m doing it anyway.” you tap away at the computer, “Also- ever heard of a zodiac sign? Thats at least like 1 in 12 chances. Better odds.” you gave him a pointed look.   
Spencer rolls his eyes. “Are you seriously making me guess zodiac signs?”    
You wiggled your brows, “What? The genius doesn’t believe in the fate of the stars.” you smirked to yourself as you typed away at the computer.   
“Do you actively want me to stereotype you?” He asked with a teasing smile of his own.   
“Tik tok, it’s either guess the sign or the date.” you joke.    
“You’re stubborn enough, let’s say Taurus.” he replied with a snark.    
You rolled your eyes and made a tsk sound, “Nice try, but WRONG. I’m a Cancer. A summertime baby even though I hate hate hate summer.” you groan thinking about the heat.    
“Then your logic definitely doesn’t make sense.” He laughed in exasperation.   
You shrugged, “never said I was right.”    
Spencer glared playfully, “No but it was implied.”   
You just brush him off. Finishing up the rewards program. “I think it works. It should track your drink purchases, and every tenth drink is free!” you said excitedly.    
“You never charge me for my drinks.” He reminded you with a look of mild confusion.   
“Shhhh, don’t let the other customers know I have favorites! They’ll get their feelings hurt!”    
-   
You’ve been scheming since you found out Spencer’s birthday. 30 was a milestone and you weren’t about to let him go by without even an itsy bitsy teenie weenie celebration. You weren’t going to throw a surprise party or anything. After the fiasco that was a friend's surprise party when they were 21 you vowed to never again. The last thing you had expected was for everyone to find out that your friend's roommate was cheating. Screaming surprise to a pair of twentysomethings trying to eat each other’s faces and their actual boyfriend being in the room was rough.    
You learned no more surprises the hard way.   
The only surprise you had was you were determined to have Josie bake one of her delicious cakes for him. You begged Josie, just a small chocolate cake with a gorgeous violet frosting. Nothing too insane, Josie just was the best baker you knew. Her cakes were to die for, but most of her pastries were.    
Josie agreed, but only if you agreed to take the deposits to the bank for the Holiday season. You lived closer and Josie hated dealing with the general population outside of what she had already seen during the holidays.     
You've been hiding Spencer’s cake in the back freezer for a day, hoping he wouldn’t be out of town for his birthday. You had called him earlier in the week and asked him to swing by on Wednesday if he could. You had told him you really needed a taste tester for your new Halloween treat. Sugar was Spencer’s weakness.    
You're pacing back and forth, trying to not be on edge, but you’re riddled with so much excitement it’s hard. You've been decorating the new display case filled with Halloween themed books. You are hanging up a garland in the window display when you see Spencer walking down the street.    
You quickly finished hanging up your ghost garland and quickly ran to the back freezer to get his cake out to let it defrost a bit. You throw candles and a lighter on the counter in the back room and you try to make sure everything is set and ready to go.    
The bell rings all the way through to the back and you compose yourself before stepping out again. You stick your head out the back door that divides the cafe from the back kitchen and waves to Spencer.    
“Back here!” you shout.   
The bookstore only had a few patrons tonight, none of which were happily there to hang out or study. They were perusing the isles, and you had already given them a few recommendations of books. You know an insomniac when you see one, and these people were the kind that needed something besides the empty fridge to look at for their late-night brain. It was later than normal, around two in the morning, when Spencer came walking in.    
“I almost thought you weren’t coming by tonight.” you tease leaning against the counter.    
“It was a late work trip.” He said with a tired smile.    
“Well, I have a treat for you. Taste testing if you will.” you said, turning to the back room.    
“I need you to close your eyes though. I’m really proud of it.”    
Spencer rolls his eyes at your antics but does as you’ve asked.    
“No peaking!” you shouted, and Spencer could hear the door to the back close behind you.    
You check the cake, and it's good to go. The back freezer wasn’t cold enough to freeze it solid, so the cake is still easy to cut. you press the candles into the top, a three and a zero to make 30. You slowly light the candles and back up to bring the cake out. You gently set it down in front of Spencer, who’s just standing there with his eyes closed and a goofy grin.     
“Okay, open.”    
Spencer opens his eyes, and he looks stunned. His mouth just kind of hangs open like a gaping fish before he murmured, “This isn’t a Halloween treat...”    
“Happy birthday Spencer.” you whisper looking at his reaction and trying to gauge it. “I didn’t make your cake, Josie did, but I promise her cakes are the very best.”    
Spencer was stunned into silence. He truly didn’t expect you to remember his birthday, or know he was turning 30. Hell, even his team wasn’t aware it was his birthday until Emily told them. Which, he does appreciate her listening to him. He was having a crisis over his own accomplishments.   
You start getting antsy when Spencer doesn’t respond. He’s standing there with his mouth open. You start rambling, “I just thought, you know, 30 is a big deal! It’s a milestone and I didn’t get to celebrate your past two birthdays so I thought this would be a nice treat... I know I didn’t ask if you even like surprises, but it was so small-”    
Spencer cuts her off.    
“Sorry, I just... thank you.” He tells you with a soft smile. “I love it.”    
Your eyes light up and you brush your hair out of your face. The nerves leaving your body.    
“Make a wish Spencer.”    
Spencer doesn’t have to think about it as he blows out his candles.    
“What did you wish for?” you asked, grabbing a knife to cut his cake.    
Spencer raised a brow, “Well if I tell you, it won’t come true.”    
You roll your eyes, “Didn’t peg you to be superstitious.”    
Spencer just shrugged at that and bit his lip. If his wish had to do with you, well, you didn’t need to know.    
The one about Rocky Horror Picture Show  
Spencer’s sorting through the collection of DVD’s you’ve brought over for their movie night. You brought an eclectic mixed taste of Halloween movies, from Hocus Pocus to Insidious. Spencer pauses on Rocky Horror Picture Show and you make a noise of excitement.    
“Oh, we should watch it! I’m going to the showing next weekend and I’m so excited.” you said, reaching for the bowl of popcorn.    
“I didn’t know they still showed it in movie theaters, I’ve never been.” he said casually popping open the case to grab the DVD.   
“What do you mean you haven’t seen Rocky Horror Picture Show? It’s like quintessentially a Halloween staple.” you said in abject horror.    
Spencer is once again being berated for his lack of pop culture knowledge. To be fair, he does know the movie. So, he isn’t fully aware of why you are looking at him like he has two heads.   
“I’ve seen the movie. I know what it is.” He gives a scoff and shakes his head.    
“No, that’s not what I mean. Why haven’t you ever been to a local show? It’s iconic!” you said exaggeratedly.   
Spencer rolled his eyes. “My job doesn’t always let me preplan my events well. Besides, it can’t be much different than watching the movie at home.” He said turning to press play on the DVD player.   
You audibly gasp standing up from the couch.    
“Spencer Reid, that is blasphemous! You are absolutely coming with me to a viewing of Rocky Horror, like immediately.” you demand planting your hands on your hips and shooting him a playful glare.    
“What makes it so different?” He cocked his head in confusion, brows furrowed. “It’s a musical from the 70’s that barely makes sense in the plot line and some of the verbiage is really outdated, borderline offensive really.” He states matter of factly.   
You sighed, “You don’t understand art! It’s about the experience of the show, it’s such a great time going to a live show and seeing everyone in costume and singing together, chanting, using props! It’s one of the best things to be in a room of similar people just having fun.” you told him in a dreamy voice.   
Spencer nodded, still not fully getting your image, moving to go sit on the couch, “I didn’t know they were so... performative.”    
“They are some of my favorite shows I’ve been to. Especially bringing new people.” you plop back down on the couch next to him.    
“Why?” he asked, turning to watch the opening credits, leaning down to grab his late-night coffee that wasn’t nearly as good as what you make in the cafe.   
“Because they’re virgins.” You said it like it was so obvious. Like it was a fact as simple as the sky is blue.   
Spencer almost chokes on his coffee.    
“Excuse me?” he asks a little baffled.    
You roll your eyes, “When someone is brought to a live show and they’ve never been, they’re a virgin. There’s even a silly virgin ritual that’s super fun. The whole nights a blast.”    
Spencer goes quiet, his face bursting into a red flush, “It’s not... it’s not like a sex thing, is it?”    
Your laugh filters through his apartment bright and loud. You shake your head, “God no Spencer! I’m not going to some crazy orgy almost every year.”    
Spencer started coughing and looked at you with wide eyes, “I wasn’t implying that you- I-... shit.”    
You just shake your head still trying to control your laughter, “Well you have to come with me now Spencer, to heal my wounded ego. I’m going on Halloween. Dress up please?” you asked with a bat of your lashes.   
Spencer covers his face in embarrassment but nods, “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll go. Can we please just watch the movie now?”    
“Can do.” you snickered settling back into the comfort of his couch.   
-   
Before you can leave, you have a few things you need to check first. Spencer is picking you up to walk to the theater together, which is sweet. You go to check on your dad before leaving.    
You knock gently on your father's door before opening it a crack, “Daddy?” you whisper.   
Big Joe is passed out in his bed, the television still playing faintly in the background of some sports game. His snores letting you know he was out for the night.   
You shake your head with a sigh before going in to turn off his television and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.    
“Love you, I’ll be back later.” you whispered.     
You check your outfit one last time in the mirror, looking at her Janet inspired pajamas. She was wearing tights, a silk slip dress, and wrapped in a similar silk night gown. You were going as Janet in her under garments, but something you were okay with wearing in public. You throw your long coat over it to keep yourself warm.    
You hear Spencer’s gentle knock on the door, and you quickly move to grab the last few items. You grab your large tote bag, double checking to make sure you have all the props you wanted to bring. You look in your wallet to make sure you have both tickets, and you feel confident.    
You slide on your heels and open the door to greet Spencer.    
“Hey! I’m ready.” you greet excitedly, moving to close the door behind you.   
You look at Spencer and see he’s dressed as Brad from the start of the movie, glasses and all. You grin as you tilt your head.    
“I didn’t know you wear glasses?” you said with a tiny smile pointing at his face.   
Spencer shrugged, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” he said holding out his arm for you.    
“A gentleman too!” you faked a gasp as you wrapped your arms around his. “To the theater!” you proclaim with an exaggerated drawl of your accent.   
It’s not the shortest of walks, but the duo arrives at the theater only a little chilly. Mostly you, even under your coat. You present the tickets, and they are quickly ushered inside. You immediately relax, feeling the warmth of the heater.    
You move to hang up your coat on the rake and Spencer catches what your actual costume is. His face flushed a bit.    
“You, you look great.” He almost chokes on his words as he compliments you.    
You do a little spin, your loose robe fanning out around you. “Thought it would be cute and comfy!” you tell him with a proud smile.    
You come back up to Spencer to link their arms together again, “Come on let’s go find our seats! I wanna make sure I have the props in the right order.” you looked up at him with unbridled excitement that’s just too contagious.    
Spencer just gives a nod, “Lead the way, Janet.”    
“Aren’t you just a peach Brad!” you responded without missing a beat.    
Everything about this movie experience is the exact opposite of what Spencer would expect when going to see a film. Almost everyone in the crowd was dressed and just as many were carrying around props.    
Your bag was filled with rice, newspapers, playing cards, he was honestly impressed by the Mary Poppins effect. He couldn’t see the bottom and every time you pulled something out, he really thought you had hit the end.   
The Time Warp plays, and you drag him out of his seat to dance together. The whole room ignited into a loud cacophony of singing. Your laughter is the only sound he can hear pierce through, and he finds himself smiling alongside you.    
Once that musical number ends, they almost fall back into their seats, you lean closer to him and whispers in his ear, “Are you having fun?”   
He turns and nods, bending down to grab some left-over rice to toss at you playfully. “It’s a blast.” he laughs.   
You squeeze his arm, “I’m glad.”    
The evening is chaotic, loud, and so so so messy. By the time the movie ends the theater is a real mess. You grab as many of the large props as you can and shove them back into your bag, trying to make the clean-up at least a bit easier.    
Once they’re outside, and you’re wrapped back up in your coat, Spencer takes a deep breath.    
“Soooooooooo?” you start, giving him an expectant look.   
“I had a lot of fun. I totally get the theater experience.” He chuckled looking over at you.   
“Good! Maybe we can make it a tradition.” You said giving him a gently nudge with your elbow.   
“You mean add more activities to our Halloween calendar? How will we ever find room!” He says in jest.    
You shrugged lazily with a dramatic sigh. “We’re just too festive Spencer.”   
“Clearly, we’re going to have to start Halloween in September next year.” He suggested.   
“Oh, that would give me something to look forward to!” you said in excitement.   
Spencer walks you home and drops you off at the foot of the apartment.    
“Thanks again Spencer. It was so much fun going with someone again.” you tell him with a soft smile. “I haven’t been able to go with anyone since we moved here.”   
Spencer steps forward to brush your hair out of your face, “I love spending Halloween with you.” he whispered.   
Your face bursts into a deep flush as you can feel your heart almost beat out of your chest. “Goodnight Spencer.”   
“Goodnight, Y/N.”   
The one where Birdie visits  
You're cleaning some dishes left over from breakfast when the doorbell rings. You sigh, knowing it’s far too early for Spencer to come by to pick you up for lunch. It has to be Bridget. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect, since you had just dropped your father off for a checkup.   
Your baby sister had called last night asking if their dad would be home tomorrow. You were too hopeful to think that meant Bridget was trying to spend time with their dad. It’s like pulling teeth trying to get Bridget to spend some time with their dad. Since he’s been diagnosed it’s almost like she can’t stand to be in the same room as him. Big Jo tries to not let it hurt his feelings, but you see his face and how he deflates.    
The day she came by, and he was in a wheelchair, it was like they’d both been hit by a truck.    
You plant a forced smile on your face as you answer the door, “I thought you were coming by later? When daddy would be here.”    
Your sister shakes her head, shoving her hands into her coat pocket. “Nope, I just needed to stop by before I started running my errands for the day.” she said calmly.    
“Well come in, come on, it’s freezing.” You step aside to let your sister in. Bridget quickly sheds her coat and scarf hanging them on the rack next to the door.    
“Magpie, did you pack any of my stuff when you moved daddy up here?” Bridget asks, walking into the kitchen and making herself a glass of water.    
“Come on in, fix yourself a drink, don’t mind your sister... by the way do you have my junk?” you mock crossing your arms as you raise your brow at your younger sister.    
“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just in a hurry.” Bridget replied rolling her eyes.    
“Well, what are you looking for Birdie?” you asked.    
“I told you, it’s Bri.” She murmured with a sour face. “I can’t find any of my old high school stuff.” she said casually.    
You lean against the counter, “I didn’t take any of that stuff. I just packed up the essentials.”    
“So, my stuff is in a storage unit?” Bridget asked irritated.    
“No Birdie, it’s all still at the house in Georgia. I have Aunt Jo taking care of it. All your stuffs at home.” you replied exasperated.    
“Aunt Josephine? I thought she was like... a recluse?” Bridget asked, making a scrunched face.   
You roll your eyes, “No, Aunt Jo just never liked Lauren, so she never came around.”    
“God, can you just call her mom Magpie? I hate it when you call momma Lauren... it’s weird.” Bridget said defensively.    
You look up at Bridget with a raised brow, “I’m good, thanks. That would involve her having to stick around to be my mom.”   
“I’m not getting into this with you again.” Bridget says in a huff of frustration hitting the counter with her hands.    
“Fine.”   
“Fine.”   
Silence settles over the two sisters, and you go to open the fridge to grab a prepackaged cold coffee.    
“Soooooooooo,” you drawl out as you open the drink.    
Bridget looks at you with a suspicious look.    
“What are your Christmas plans?” you ask, trying to be casual.    
“Jamie and I are going to see momma in Florida. We’ve had these plans for a while.” She said defensively not making eye contact.   
“Birdie come on, you haven’t spent the past few Christmases with daddy, and if you did see him, it was for twenty minutes or a crummy half assed phone call.” you plead, throwing your hand up in emphasis.   
“Y/N, I didn’t come here for a lecture, I just needed to know if you packed my shit when you decided to pack up all our lives and move out to DC without asking me.” Bridget murmurs bitterly under her breath.   
Your brows furrow as you’re taken aback by your sister.    
“Bridget, I didn’t pack up everyone's lives- we still have the house in Georgia!" You said mildly irritated.   
Bridget just rolls her eyes and puts her glass in the sink. “Whatever...” She murmured.   
You feel that small part of yourself, the one that gnaws and claws bubbling under your skin, poke itself to the surface. “What was I supposed to do? I had to make a decision for dad’s health!” you feel your voice rising in irritation that only your sister can bring out of you.   
“Besides, I wasn’t the one who moved to DC to run away from her family.” you state bitterly.   
“Oh, come off it!” Bridget throws her hands up in defeat. “I’m not running away-this was the best program for me, and you know that!”   
“Then what do you call never seeing dad! You even called to ask if he was home before you came today, Birdie, just so you could avoid him... What would you call that?” you feel your voice raising and can’t stop the vitriol that spits out of your mouth at your sister.   
There’s a pit in the bottom of your stomach that twists and churns when it comes to your sister and your dad. You had tried so hard to get her to understand that their father was dying. They’re already lucky with the years they’ve gotten. He’s beaten the odds, but he can’t go on forever. You don’t understand how Bridget can just act like life is normal when every day could be their dad’s last.   
“It’s not my fault daddy’s sick!” Bridgit shouts, her own voice cracking, “It’s not my fault you’ve given up your own life to be his caretaker! So, stop blaming me for living my life, while you’re stuck here playing nurse!”    
“I’m not blaming you-”   
“Yes, you are! You always blame me-”   
“No, I don’t Bridget! If anything, I’m jealous about how selfish you can be!” you feel the words tumbling out of your mouth like bile before you can stop herself. You're so angry and sad all the time. It’s not fair that you’re so aware of your father’s mortality while your baby sister gets to run around and live her carefree life.    
“I just wish you’d think about the fact that daddy is dying!”    
The silence that falls between them is thick, the tension tight, about to break. Bridget looks at her sister with hatred, “I’m very aware he’s dying Y/N... I’m not stupid.” she whispers out in a hard tone.    
Bridget turns around to grab her coat and rushes quickly to the door.    
You dig your heels in more, the words almost vomiting out your mouth in fierce resentment, “Go on Bridget, run away like you always do! I’ve been taking care of dad alone, anyway, not like he has two daughters!” your voice peaks and cracks in frustration.    
You blink away the fat angry tears pricking your eyes.   
Bridget turns on her heels to face her older sister, flipping you off, “Fuck you!” she hisses out in a venomous tone.   
Bridget elbows her way past the man in front of her almost knocking him down as she runs off.    
You rush to the door, about to yell something else after her when you see Spencer standing to the side in shock.    
Your shoulders drop and you look ashamed, closing your mouth tightly. You take a deep breath.    
“How much of that did you hear?” you asked quietly.    
You can’t find it in yourself to look up at Spencer yet, embarrassed by your own unbridled rage.    
He moves to push you gently back inside, “enough...” he replied softly closing the door behind him.    
“C’mon sit down.” He gently moves you to the couch, forcing you to sit down.    
He disappears into the kitchen for a short while and you sit on the couch looking at your lap. You feel the wave of resentment you were holding onto leave and be replaced with the intense sorrow that follows. The tears that were building finally fell, landing on your lap as you sobbed, trying to hold back your voice. Your throat feels tight as you sit there trying to hold yourself together, to not scream your lungs out.    
You feel the sofa dip next to you and a small mug is pushed into your hands. It’s warm tea.   
“There’s a lot of honey in there, I wasn’t thinking so it might be too sweet.” he said softly.    
You just shake your head and sniffle, trying to compose yourself. “No such thing...” you tried to joke, moving the cup to your mouth, your hands shaking the whole time.    
A sob escapes you before you can even drink the tea.    
“I’m sorry,” you tried to say, the tears just sliding down your face, you look up at Spencer your lip quivering and eyes red.    
Spencer gently grabs the tea and puts it on the coffee table before he opens his arms for you, and it doesn’t take but a short second before your face is in Spencer’s chest bawling.   
He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly, rubbing soothing circles into your back. Your body shakes from crying, you sound like a small child with how the sobs rip through your throat.    
Spencer holds you until you calm down enough, he finally feels you stop shaking.   
“Do you feel better now?” he whispers.    
You pulled back and tried to dry your eyes, you could already feel the puffiness settling.    
“No...” you murmured pitifully. “I feel worse, like I’m a bitch.” You look up at Spencer and see the massive wet stain from your tears.   
“Sorry,” you point to his shirt, “didn’t mean to unload all of that on you. I thought you were coming later?” you said in a tiny voice.    
“I was running early so I thought I’d just drop by, was that... Bridget?” he asked in a soft voice.    
You nodded. “We were fighting about dad... again.” you admit finally grabbing your cup of tea that he made you.    
Spencer face makes a silent ‘Oh’ as he nods in understanding.    
“It sounded pretty bad.” he replied.   
You groan, “I don’t like fighting about it. I don’t like fighting at all!” you said facing him. “We used to get along great, then... I don’t know. Everything changed when our parents divorced, and the gap just never stopped growing... Now there’s this great divide I can’t seem to reach across and...” you pause, taking a deep breath trying to stop the words from just falling out of your mouth. Exposing your raw skin that you’ve picked at so much your bones are exposed telling your story.   
“I know she thinks I hate her for living her life.” You sigh looking at Spencer, who’s just been sitting and kindly listening. Attentively. “I do sometimes resent how carefree she is... but” you bite your lip.   
“Spencer, I’m so scared that when dad dies... it’ll just,” you scoffed, “Me and that god forsaken bookstore.”   
“I don’t want to lose them both.” you said, your eyes brimming with tears again.    
If there was anything Spencer felt confident that he could do, it was helping you handle loss. He’s experienced it enough.   
“You won’t be alone.” He tells you confidently; he reaches out to hold your hands tightly. “I’ll be here.” he reassured you.    
“If there’s anything I’ve learned, everyone handles grief differently. Bridget...she might not be able to handle how sick your dad is.” Spencer tried to reason, anything to make you feel less alone.   
“Avoiding it won’t make it go away...” you muttered.    
“No, and she’ll eventually see that. You can’t force her to confront that fear.” he said pushing your hair behind her ear.    
“It’s so hard, how do you do it? Alone with your mom?” you asked softly.    
Spencer loses his breath for a moment before he swallows. Trying to find an answer.    
“Well, she has doctors she trusts now. And a home that she feels safe in... but I spent my childhood taking care of her.”    
Spencer scoffs, “I resent my father, he left a child alone to take care of a sick mother? He never helped me.”    
You give him a soft nudge with your shoulder, “my mom's pretty shitty too.”    
Spencer gives a hollow chuckle, “Does everyone have a shitty parent?” he asks, squeezing your hand.   
You lay your head on his shoulder, “There has to be good parents... we just- we got unlucky.” you whisper.   
“Maybe we did...” He murmured.    
Silence settles between them and it’s calming, not the tense air that was with Bridget.    
“You never told me what happened with your mom.”   
You tense up.    
“It’s not a story I like telling...” you sighed, “When I was thirteen, I overheard my parents arguing. Long story short, my mom cheated on my dad. Bridget was so young, like six, so when they divorced, they tried to lie to us. That it was mutual. Civil... I knew the truth though; I couldn’t look at my mom the same after that." you told him with a bitter smile.    
“I already lost my mom; I just couldn’t take away Birdie’s...”    
“You never told her?” he asked in surprise.    
“It wasn’t for me to tell. I just, I was a teenager...I wanted to protect her you know? She didn’t need the bitterness that bites at the back of my throat every time I see that woman.”   
Spencer nods in understanding. “You know, you’re allowed to feel angry. You don’t have to be agreeable or happy about everything. It’s okay to get mad sometimes.” His hand moves up to gently brush your hair.    
You don’t respond to his statement, just try to not cry anymore.    
“Can we go get lunch now?” you asked after a few minutes of silence.    
“Anywhere you want.”   
The one where you find out Spencer works for the FBI   
It’s a rough morning.   
Massively rough, actually. Your alarm didn’t go off and if it wasn’t for Spencer calling you, you’d still be heavily sleeping.    
You roll over to grab your phone and answer it.    
“Hello?” your voice comes out groggy, slow, and thick with sleep.    
“Hey! You still want to go to the convention? I’m leaving soon and I can swing by to grab you.” Spencer’s voice comes through.    
You panic, and shots up staring at your bedside clock. “Oh god, Spencer I’m so sorry! I slept in!” You jump out of your bed and almost trip over your own clothes strewn on the floor from the night before.    
“It’s okay- I can wait if you need me to-”   
“No, no no! You were so excited, don’t wait up!” You interrupt him as you throw clothes from your closet around trying to find something you want to wear.    
“It’s no big deal.” Spencer started to answer but you sighed.    
“Spencer are you already dressed?” you pressed, grabbing one of your comfortable but cute skirts and a simple sweater. You throw them on your bed.   
His silence is enough of an answer.    
“You are.” you sighed and shook your head, “I have to go to the shop and pick up the money to deposit for the bank today. I’ll just meet up with you later. Promise. I just have to run this errand first.” you told him with a soft tone.   
You hear his small huff, “It’s really not a big deal,”    
“Spencer” you chastise him. “You’re already ready to go. I’ll probably just take a little over an hour. Then I'll be there, okay? Just do a few laps in the artist alley for me.” you tell him teasingly.    
You can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “Fine, but you owe me a coffee.”    
“I always do.” you joked before hanging up.    
You rush through putting on your makeup and throwing your clothes on. You gave yourself a quick once over before deciding that you can’t waste any more time. You looked decent enough.   
You rushed down the stairs and came around the corner to see your dad sitting at the kitchen table.    
“You sure you’re okay without me today?” you asked him, leaning down to kiss your dad on the cheek.    
Her dad huffs, “I told you I can handle one day. Magpie, go out. You haven’t been out in months for fun.” He grunted in his deep voice, slurring his words together.    
“I’m just asking daddy!” you snorted a soft laugh. “I want to make sure you don’t need anything before I leave.” you told him.    
Her dad’s been able to move himself in and out of his own wheelchair for the most part, but you’re waiting for the day he can’t.    
You’re waiting for the day your daddy can’t do most things.   
“Don’t worry about me, I’m gonna watch the Brave’s game today and I better see them win.” He mumbled nodding to you.    
You roll your eyes, “Don’t hold your breath on that one. I love you.”   
“Love you too pumpkin.”    
You grab your bag, “Be safe!” He hollers at you.    
“I always am!” you shout back to him before leaving for the bookstore.    
-   
You are checking your watch in a mild panic. You’re not super off on the time you gave Spencer, but you still hate making him wait. You should have just taken the money deposit on Friday, but you were so sleepy you barely could do more than take your dad to his appointment.    
You huffed in frustration, you only had yourself to blame.    
You're finally up to deposit the stores money, and you thank the gods above. Then your, already bad day, goes terrible.   
“Hey!”   
Gun shots. Gun shots go off and you are frozen, your brain going into fight or flight. You turn quickly and see a woman with a short bob holding a gun and the security guard is on the ground, blood pooling beneath his body.    
You feel your stomach fall out of your body and you’re shuffled with the crowd trying to get out. It feels like a blur.   
“I want to see hands in the sky!” a new voice shouts.   
Your hands go up, you see at least three guns and three different ugly face masks swinging their guns around. You feel like your ears are ringing while you’re ushered into a corner with the other patrons.    
Your body is shaking from fear. Who the hell robs a bank on a Saturday afternoon?    
“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we are the Face Cards, maybe you’ve heard of us.” The woman’s voice rings through again.   
You stand next to a couple who start speaking lowly in a foreign language, you think it’s German. You know that they’re trying to plan something together.    
The woman with her face mask turns around pointing her gun at the couple quickly walking toward them, speaking in their language. You have no idea what she says but you know it’s a threat.    
“Get your faces on the floor already. I see eyes, you see bullets. Get it?” the woman shouts at them.    
You slide down with everyone, fear eating away at you. You just hope the police are either quick or the robbers are.    
“Get down on the ground!” one of the males screams.   
You feel like a rock is in your throat. You just keep your head down, trying to keep yourself together. You aren’t focusing on what they’re saying. You know he’s demanding money but you’re just trying to focus on living.   
You hear them shuffling, shouting, and then they're gone. Just as soon as you feel like you can breathe again, there’s more gunshots and the robbers come running back inside.   
You are yanked up by your arm, forced to your feet. Your eyes meet the hollow black abyss of the woman’s mask as she holds the gun to your stomach. You can’t breathe, all you can think about is how you can’t leave your dad alone.    
“Make a wall, stand near the doors and windows.” she demanded, shoving you toward the front door.    
You heard the woman walk away, and you released a shaky breath squeezing your eyes shut.    
This is not how you wanted today to go. You were supposed to be at a convention with Spencer. Dressed as Doctor Who characters, eating bland food, and buying something silly from the artist alley. You’d come home, make dinner, and watch a movie with your dad.    
Now you don’t know if you’ll see your dad or Spencer again. God, you can’t think, what if you don’t see your dad again? Who’s going to take care of him? Your sister won’t. Your mind starts to spiral and you’re panicking, your breathing becomes shallow.    
You're brought back by the woman who’s next to you grabbing your hand and holding it tight. It grounds you to the present. You can hear the conversation happening with the squabbling face masked robbers.   
“I can’t find anything. No doors, no grates, nothing.” The woman informed the man.   
“Yo! Lynne! What’s another way outta here?” He shouts disgruntled to the woman who was working behind the counter.   
“Just the main entrance and the side door. It’s for security.” She responds timidly.   
“I know that. You think I’m stupid?” He shouted at her with an exhausted sigh.   
“What went wrong? We were on count.” The woman growls out in frustration.   
“I need a doctor. Is anyone a doctor?!” The man is clearly ignoring her and trying to save the other man that’s with them.   
You don’t hear much else, you start to tune out all the noise into a hum that almost feels like tv static against your skin. It makes you itch, but you can’t be bothered to try to move.   
There’s a murmur of conversation from the group next to you but it just makes white noise in your ears. You're just numb and want desperately to be home or at the coffee shop with Spencer. Anywhere else.   
A phone ringing is the only thing that vaguely pulls you out of it enough to pay attention again.   
One of the robbers is on the phone, the woman keeps circling murmuring her own commentary.   
“He’s trying to negotiate.” the man’s gruff voice cuts through.   
“We’re not playing games!” The woman sneers back.   
You feel the woman’s eyes scanning, heels clicking on the floor. You can feel your heart in your throat as it beats aggressively.   
There’s sudden movement and near you the woman pulls a small girl. She screams for her dad who’s with her and he spins around begging for his daughter.   
“Either we get what we want, or everyone in this room dies.”   
The father’s voice is shaking as he begs. “Take me instead, please. Take me.”   
“It’s okay baby.”   
Then the loud noise of gun being shot makes you flinch as you see the man falling backwards and lands on the ground in front of you. His daughter screaming for him and trying to grab him.   
You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing too easily you could be shot too.   
“You better send in some help or more people are gonna die.” The man tells the police calmly on the phone.   
You feel a shaky breath leave your body.   
They keep going back and forth and you hear the phone again.   
It feels like an out of body experience. You can’t think, barely can feel yourself breathing. If it wasn’t for the occasional heel clicking or unfortunate gun shot, you’d think it was a nightmare.   
The front door opens, and a man walks through a metal detector, he looks like medical personnel. The woman tries to pat him down, but the other robber is in the floor with a dying man screaming for help.   
The room in dead silent as you hear the man work, trying to save the robber on the ground.   
The room is starting to smell like blood and what you can only assume is the stench of death. You hate the iron that’s infiltrating your nostrils, and you’ve never thought of yourself to be queasy with gore, but this is real. Not a horror movie.   
There’s at least two dead men in front of you on the floor, a small girl sobbing into a strange woman, and soon to be another body.   
Another gunshot.   
You still flinch. The medics body now is dragged forward into the pile of dead men. Alongside the other robber. Four. Four dead men.   
You want to hurl. You are not built for this, that’s why you run a bookstore and cafe.   
“Everyone move forward!” the woman demands with a shout.   
You vaguely hear the phone ring again and you wonder when this will be over. Will they shoot all of them? Will they kill another person, five more? When does it end and what can the police even do?   
You’re starting to think this bank will be the last four walls you ever see. You have to blink back the tears and not let that thought overwhelm you.   
The man and woman are squabbling again. Turning on each other? You can’t really tell.   
“I wanna talk to the cop who shot my brother.”   
Well, there goes that tactic. No betrayals here... just possibly another dead officer.   
The man gets back on the phone and the back and forth goes on, he keeps demanding the officer, even offering to let hostages go. That feels far too good to be true though.   
One of the men near you gets dragged back, pulled over to the phone.   
“Come on bud, let’s go!”   
“Pick up the phone.” the robber demands.   
“Why?” the man’s shaking voice asks.   
“Pick up the phone!” he shouts, like he’s desperate.   
“Hello?” the man is clearly scared, voice shaking and small.   
“Tell him your name.”   
“It’s...” He swallows, “It’s Shawn Harper.”   
There’s another gun shot, and you wish you didn’t know what a body hitting the floor sounded like.   
And that makes five innocent bodies, and one dead robber.   
“Ugh, you just killed Shawn Harper. Not me, you.” the man hisses through the phone.   
You’re going to hurl, what a sick thing to say.   
“I’m going to shoot another hostage every sixty seconds until you send in the cop.”   
You freeze. 
You try to close your eyes, and you’ve never been a very religious person... which is not common for someone from Georgia, but you find yourself begging to some god, or whoever, that you can make it out. You have to make it out.   
“Who’s next huh?”   
He grabs a woman and drags her back. Telling her to pick up the phone. Your body trembled as you tried desperately to block out the gunshot you knew you would hear.   
“Pick it up, come on. Pick it up.” he goads the woman, her sobs broken between her shaking breathes.   
“What’s your name?” he pressures.   
“No,” she gasps, “Please...” her voice broken.   
“Tell him your name!” he shouts at the woman.   
“Annie...” she gasps, swallowing a sob, “It’s Annie.”   
“Annie, you got about 30 seconds, I hope Agent Rossi doesn’t make me shoot you too.” he tells her, with fake sympathy in his voice.   
The man next to you decides that now is the time to chat. He turned to face the woman with children, he whispered something to her, and you can’t believe this man has lost his mind.   
“Hey! You! Come over here.” The robber yells at him, his gun pointing much too close to you for your liking.   
“Just let the women and children go. They don’t need to see this.” The man tried to negotiate with the robber.   
You almost scoffed, what did this guy think he was doing?   
“Pretty soon they’re gonna be doing a lot more than seeing.” The man hisses out, “Annie, you just got yourself a reprieve, get in line over there.”   
The robber grabs the man shoving him towards the phone and you sigh.   
“My name is Matthew Downs.” he speaks into the phone.   
Suddenly an officer walks through the door, his hands up in surrender.   
“Let those people go.” his accent is much thicker than yours, southern but he’s not from Georgia.   
“Alright, you, you, you, you-” he pushes the woman and two children next to you. “The kids, get out.”   
He sounds like a man who’s finally found release, like he’s getting what he’s always wanted.   
You watch the officer talk to the robbers, and you see him fall, two shots to his chest.   
You released a shaky gasp. The man, Matthew? Who was at the phone rushes over and grabs onto you. He directs you and forces you to put her hands on the officer.   
“Keep pressure on it.”   
You nod and follow his instruction easily.   
Matthew grabs the medical bag and starts instructing you on what to do. You're on the floor, holding a cloth and putting pressure heavily on the cop in front of you. He instructs the pressure is the most important and that’s what she does.   
She’s trying to breathe, steady her hands to be helpful. The officer on the ground keeps trying to talk and you are so close to panicking that you’re about to yell at this poor man bleeding out on the ground.   
“Are you armed?” Matthew asked him.   
“No.” He murmured, hissing in pain.   
“Damn... I think we might have something of a chance here.” your eyebrows were raised in surprise at his words.   
“What?” the cop looks just as confused.   
“The girls gone and the guys off his head. He doesn’t know who to trust. We can work them against each other.” Matthew whispered to both of them.   
“Wait are you a cop?” he tries to ask, still struggling.   
“A former marine.” Matthew grunts out.   
The officer is moving too much, and his blood is all over your hands. You can’t get the metallic smell out of your nose and you’re trying to keep it together.   
“You gotta listen to me, I need you to get a message to my girlfriend.” he tried to ask.   
“All right, you can tell her yourself when you get out of here.” Matthew reassures him.   
You huff and looks at the officer with determination, “I need you to not think in only death, okay? Everything looks a little bleak right now and I really need some kind of hope to hold on to. There are already five dead bodies, don’t make it six.” you hiss out at him.   
“Only I’m not getting outta here... you need someone to cause a distraction.” he murmured trying to sit up.   
“What are you doing?!” you try to push him back down but he’s surprisingly resilient for someone who was just shot.   
“Her name is Jennifer, and she’s a federal agent. You tell her I’m sorry.” the cop tells Matthew.   
The two continue to go back and forth and you can’t bother to get yourself off the ground. You're watching this officer like he’s gone mad.   
He walks on shaky legs, hobbling over to the robber. He goads him, pushing the man. Turning his trust around on its head.   
Then the robbers walking off with him to the back, and they’ve left an opening for them to escape.   
Matthew bends down to help you off the ground and shoves you out the door, and suddenly you can breathe again. Officers swarm them and escort them off to the safety of a police barricade.   
You look around, taking in the massive amounts of vans, officers, the FBI agents, and swat team.   
You're watching them move in, trying to do their jobs. Arrest the bad guys... but you watch with wide eyes the massive explosion that destroys the inside of the bank. Shooting debris out onto the ground. It really hits you, like a massive punch to your gut, how lucky you are to even be alive.   
You’re with the rest of the survivors, huddled near one of the police cruisers, all of them waiting for medics to check them and for other cops to take statements. It’s all just a blur. Everything is happening too fast and too slowly all at once. You don’t even know what the time is or how long you’ve been trapped in that bank.   
Then through the fog of your head you see something so familiar you have to do a double take to believe it.    
Spencer.   
Your Spencer, coming out of a federal vehicle in a bullet proof vest reading FBI. You'll blame the adrenaline later, but your feet start walking away from the safety of your spot and it’s like tunnel vision. you're running, and while you hear people yelling, you can’t stop. Your only goal is Spencer, he was a lifeline in this moment. A grounding figure in your shock.   
“Spencer?” your feet pound on the pavement, the loud commotion around you fading into a buzzing sound behind you. “Spencer!” you shout at him.    
With laser focus he finds you, his face filled with relief but even more worry.   
Spencer had seen you on the cameras, and it took every fiber of his being to not immediately want to drive down to barge in for you. He knew, logically, he was better helping out Garcia and looking over the maps. Every time Spencer heard a gunshot; it was a jolt of panic as his eyes scanned the cameras making sure it wasn’t you. You couldn’t die. Spencer doesn’t think he could recover from that. You’re bright and kind and the last person who deserved to be in this kind of hostage situation.    
Every second felt like an hour and his brain was whirling a million different scenarios.    
“Y/N,” he meets you halfway, holding your arms and walking you back to safety.    
“You can’t be here, this isn’t safe.” He tells you sternly, his brow furrowed in a deep line. It’s an expression you've never seen, so serious. His eyes flashed over your body trying to check if you were okay. He freezes when he sees the blood caked on your hands. He gently grabbed your hands, and it made you look down.   
“It’s not mine.” you murmured quietly.   
Spencer sighed in relief and looked back at you with more determination.   
“Just stay with the officers, okay? They will keep you safe. I promise I’ll explain but I have to do my job.” He tells you; he’s navigated you back to where you started, and he hands you off to a medic.   
You want to argue with him, but his tone leaves no room for it and your energy is fading.    
“Make sure she’s looked at.” He told the medic in a fiercely intense tone.   
“Stay with them. I will explain...later.” he said giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before he turns to leave.    
You have no energy left to try to argue. You’re just filled with exhaustion as the medic checks your vitals. You vaguely hear him talking to you, but you can’t pay attention. Your eyes never left Spencer as you follow him. He works his way around like it's second nature.   
For a moment, you realized there’s a whole part of his life that you had no idea about... he’d never told you.   
The rest of the evening goes by in a blur, you don’t touch your phone until it’s well into the late evening. Seeing missed calls from so many people. You can only find it in yourself to call your dad.    
“Magpie? Magpie, please tell me you’re okay.” Your dad’s voice rings through, warbled like he’s about to cry. Big Joe isn’t a crier, he just never has been. A pang of guilt shoots through you because you feel guilty for not calling sooner.    
“I’m, I’m safe daddy, I’m at the station.” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the smoke and underuse.    
“Oh, thank god.” The sigh of relief speaks more than his words do.   
“I’ll be home tonight, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave...”    
“Come home as soon as you can sweetie.”   
“I love you daddy.” your voice shakes, and it’s watery, almost on the verge of tears.   
“I love you too. Come home safe, and I mean it.” His voice is firm, but filled with warmth and it has you cracking her foundation. Tears escaped your eyes.    
She wipes them away furiously, trying to save her waterworks for when she’s alone tonight and processing what the hell even happened today.   
By the time you hang up you see a small group entering the police station, and there's a familiar mop of brown hair.    
Spencer beelines towards you. You stand to meet him, and you’re enveloped in a tight hug and whispers you can’t hear against your neck.   
“You’re safe, you’re safe.” You hear him chanting and from how he’s holding you, you realize he’s saying it for his benefit.   
The two stand in silence, holding onto each other. You really couldn’t care about the onlookers. You almost died over a stupid bank robbery; you were going to hug your best friend.   
“So, is every day this scary for you?” you asked quietly.   
“Kind of part of the job.” he chuckled moving back to look you over. His sharp eyes trying to see if there was something wrong, if you were injured.    
“So, FBI?” you tilt your head with a raised brow. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a fed.” you teased, trying to ease the tension.   
“Behavioral Analysis Unit, specifically.” He adds.   
Your eyebrows raise, “Jesus, I need a sedative...” you murmured. “Why didn’t you tell me?”   
Spencer just shrugged, “I just needed somewhere that was for me, yeah know? Keep the work out of the personal?”    
You nodded, “Yeah well, I’d would have liked to know that when my best friends out of town, it could be life threatening.” you said with a small fake punch to his arm.    
“You worry enough about too much. Don’t worry about me.” he told you firmly.    
“That’s easier said than done.” you murmured with a frown.    
“Come on, let me take you home. I’m sure Big Joe’s worried sick.” Spencer said moving to grab your hand and lead you out.    
You just nod and follow behind him.   
-   
“Spencer, are you sure this is okay? I mean I don’t know anyone.” You asked trying to straighten out your dress.    
Spencer was behind the driver's seat in a tuxedo of his own and he was looking at your nervous gestures. He reaches over to hold your hands and squeezes.    
“I know it’s okay. Besides, you might as well meet everyone. I was going to introduce you to Garcia at the convention anyway.” He shrugs casually.     
“I promise they don’t bite; besides, you definitely know Will.” he said with a faint smirk.   
“Spencer Reid that does not count! I was applying pressure to make sure the man didn’t bleed out all over the floor of that bank!” you huff in irritation.    
“I promise you’ll get along, and if I don’t Morgan’s going to start thinking I’m taking out call girls after work.” He frowns in mild annoyance.   
“Wow, glad to know you think I'm a step up from call girl.” you said jokingly, reaching over to pat his arm. “Great pep talk Spence.”   
You move to get out of the car your giggles following. Spencer fumbles to escape the car.    
“I didn’t mean it like that!” he tried to explain.    
You put your hand up, “It’s fine, come on my nerves are definitely gone now.”   
Spencer just smiled at you, watching you smooth out your starry sky dress. The deep blue complimenting her as silver stars dangle from your ears.    
“I’ll stop while I’m ahead.” he said.    
“Good call.”   
Spencer walks you up to Rossi’s house, well, mansion. Your eyes widened a bit before turning to him.    
“Bestselling author... for multiple books.” he confirmed.    
He takes you out to the back to greet everyone’s who's there. You're distracted by the large space and beautiful displays. The flower petals on the ground, the beautiful tables, not to mention an open bar. Spencer gently guides you over to his team Hotch, Garcia, and Morgan who are gathered in a small circle.   
Before Spencer can introduce you Morgan’s already looking you up and down.   
“So, you're the little friend Reid wouldn’t tell us about?” He points at you before returning his hand to his pocket. Morgan’s charming and mischievous smile on his face.   
There’s a gasp, and Garcia gives a small, excited jump, “The bookstore girl!” She almost shouts at you. “You’re gorgeous!” She moved to hold your hands and made you do a small spin to look at your dress. “So sparkly, I like!”   
Morgan leaned over to Reid, “She might have already started drinking...”   
“Can’t believe you’d keep us a secret Reid.” Hotch teased, his arm resting around Beth’s waist pressing her closer to his side.   
“You’re all vultures, every single one. No privacy with you guys.” Spencer told them shaking his head.   
“You’re lucky you lasted this long, if I had known just a little more, I could have looked into her.”   
“That's... exactly what I’m talking about Garcia...” Spencer sighs heavily.   
“I’m Y/N, it’s really nice to meet you guys.” You introduce yourself with a smile and a small laugh.   
“So, a bookstore?” Morgan raised his brow in question.   
“Yeah! I co-own the Midnight Owl. It’s a bookstore and cafe that is open late nights to offer a space for book loving insomniacs like myself.” you said cheerfully.   
“That explains how Reid met you.” Rossi’s voice drifts in as he comes up to meet Spencer’s new friend.   
He extends his hand out to shake yours. “David Rossi, nice to meet you.”     
You give him a warm smile, “Thank you for hosting, your home is beautiful.”   
You leave Spencer for a while going to walk off with Penelope as the blonde leads you to the open bar.   
“How long have you been friends with Reid?” she asked.   
You take a sip from your drink and think, “Three years, going on four.”   
Penelope’s brows go up, “Oh he’s been keeping you a verrrrrry big secret.”   
You roll your eyes, “Well he regretted to inform me his day job was being an FBI agent.”   
“Does it matter?” The blonde asked tilting her head.   
You could feel Penelope’s piercing protective gaze on you. You shake your head. “No obviously not. He’s my best friend. I just... will probably worry ten times more about him now.” you admit.   
“They’re the best team I know.” Penelope tells you softly.   
“Won’t stop me from worrying, but thanks for trying.” you give a half smile before taking another sip.   
“I worry too, constantly.” She stage whispers to you.  
You bubble into laughter and the two make their way back over to the small group.   
Other groups of people were trickling into the back yard filling up space and chattering.   
Spencer’s nowhere to be found with his coworkers and you try to search for him, finally finding him crouched next to a small blonde child. You excuse yourself and make your way over.   
You tilt your head as you watch Spencer roll a ring between his fingers in front of the child and make the ring disappear and reappear before the boy's eyes. 
“Go on Henry,” he ruffles the blonde’s hair, “Time to go be the ring bearer. It’s a very important job.” Spencer ushers Henry off.   
“You just keep surprising me.” you whispered walking over to him.   
Spencer shrugs, “There’s a lot to find out.” he replied.   
“Have you always been this good with kids?” you asked.   
Spencer smiled, “I love them.” The way that he says it, you can see how much he wants that. To be a dad. To be in love.   
“I think you’ll make a great dad one day, if that’s anything to go by.” you tell him.   
Spencer just brushed the comment off and led you over to the altar.   
“Who knows, maybe one day.”   
32 notes · View notes
sidabro · 2 months ago
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because i speak (secret number) languages, i cant make characters not also multilingual.. and, as its right, they have diffrent voices in my thoughts depending on the language.. mm..
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idlerin · 5 months ago
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EACH WORD FELL INTO PLACE
celebrity!akaashi keiji x f!reader
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
the ikarus incident (band au)
+ word count: 8.6k
content — best friend's brother/sister's best friend trope, established relationship (in the other fics especially, this one eventually), can be read as a stand-alone ig, very fluffy hihi enjoy! (i certainly enjoyed writing it)
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to love and be loved by akaashi keiji, a treasure not many get to behold.
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AKAASHI KEIJI never thought he would be the type to experience the kind of love that was heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing. A love that makes you lose all sensibility and makes you ponder on how to function like a proper human being. Such acts included breathing normally, blinking in the usual manner, and even thinking when the person beholding the affection is near. The kind of love that existed and repeated in countless romance novels, movies, and shows. Fictional. Unreal. Untrue. It’s not like he was much of a pessimist to think that he would never find love, more like, it was unbelievable for that kind of love to exist in reality as it frankly didn’t make any sense. How could someone lose all rationality because of one single person?
Keiji could vaguely remember his father talking about the day he met his mother, how, when he first saw her it felt as if he was shot in the heart. Not by an arrow, but by a bullet. How he was hit with a myriad of emotions, love and adoration above all. A burning sensation settled in and what left was the thought of needing to get to know their mother more, absolutely sure she was the one for him.
Keiji simply didn’t get it though, at the ripe age of ten, he didn't understand how a person could fall in love with someone they didn’t know well (which is why he thinks the notion of falling in love at first sight is impossible, you can feel attraction at first sight but surely not love). He soon discovered that love could sprout differently for people. His aunt and uncle for one fell in love after years of being friends, it didn’t hit them immediately that their bond would turn into something more and yet it did. His uncle described it as one day seeing the sun shine high up in the sky and realizing how bright it makes the world.
The blinding kind of love was simply one of the many ways people express their affection for one another. In the end, he concluded that the heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing kind of love wasn’t something he would ever be subjected to. 
He grew curious about the subjectivity in an objective reality, this curiosity turned into an interest in writing. Which then turned into an interest in poetry and eventually, lyricism. He had found a love for literature that young kids usually don’t, this then had been a turning point in his life that wasn't abrupt but impactful, who knew rummaging in the attic looking for his nana’s old books would lead him to discover an abandoned guitar?
Just like his view on love and everything else, music was something that slowly but surely made its way into his heart. A passion begins to thread and twine to the fate directing his life.
And then he was hit by a bullet.
Unlike his father, it didn’t come abruptly and immensely after he laid eyes on you. It was slower, gradual, and not anything he expected at all. He’s known you for years, being his little sister’s closest friend. You were a constant presence in his home and you were even there to listen to his band when they were merely four kids having fun and following a dream. You were always the sweet type, and it blended well with his sister’s fierce attitude. Along the way he started thinking of you as a friend too, he could confide in you and you both shared easy conversations, how could you not be friends? You practically spent every single day in his house, you were more familiar than some of his cousins.
“I just want to graduate, why is this so hard?” you whine, a pout befalling your face, “Keiji, I swear you explained it really well, maybe something’s wrong with my brain!” your eyes were wide, looking at him as if you were truly worried something was wrong with you. It was one of the many days you spent in his home, and he offered to help when he noticed you kept glaring at a piece of paper on the counter. He asked where his sister was and you said that she was taking a nap, but you couldn’t give yourself the same pleasure without finishing your worksheet.
“Maybe you need to take a break for a moment,” he suggests, smiling idly at your expression. The pout didn’t rest and he reached out to pat you gently on the head, something he got used to doing. It’s not like he saw you as a child—he was only a year and a half older—but he could never help patting your head whenever you acted in such a cute manner.
“What will that do?” your shoulders loosen and you look up at him prettily under your lashes. That’s when Keiji becomes speechless for a moment, your gaze pierces through him and he doesn't hear what you said at first. He hadn’t noticed that he’d been staring for too long, you had to get him back to his senses by uttering, “Keiji?”
“Yes? I–uhm right uh, rest will give you the energy you need to process new information easily,” Keiji suddenly felt the need to stand up, so he did. You were pretty, yes, that’s not anything new. You’ve always been pretty in his eyes so why is it that he’s now acting so weirdly about it? He’s long since acknowledged that you’re pleasing to look at. Yes. So what? Right. He didn’t get to ponder much on that afternoon because he was soon bombarded with work when his band got scouted by an agent, he had rehearsals to worry about and people to impress. Plus, you’d always be there, so he doesn’t need to rush and put a name on anything. 
Budding feelings they may be. Keiji didn't know exactly what it was, but he wasn't dumb to not have a hint to what's happening to him. He just didn't let himself be too caught up in it.
Your presence in the Akaashis' lives was so prominent that you were even invited to family gatherings. His aunts, uncles, and cousins became as familiar with you as a regular family member would. He was so used to your presence on trips as well, his mother treated you as her own and his sister was more than happy to have her best friend on their outings.
“Is [name] not joining?” he found himself asking when he was carrying his bags to the car, his family and him were on their way to a beach trip and naturally, he looked for you. He just got back after weeks of juggling his second year of college and his band. His family greeted him with a resort getaway to “ease him up a bit” according to his sister who also just got home from her first year in university.
His father started laughing and Keiji was confused as to what was so hilarious, his father didn’t leave him wondering for too long, “Glad to know you were also used to her being here!” and laughed more as if this was the funniest discovery in the world.
“Dear, what’s so funny? Is it not obvious Keiji thinks of [name] as a sister as well? Of course he’d look for her,” his mom shook her head at his dad, “Now stop laughing and get the other bags, I’m too tired to walk back in.”
A sister? His mom thinks he thought of you as a sister? That was… he has never entertained the idea. You were always just you. No matter how much he thought about it, he could just never see you as a sister.
“Why is [name] not coming?” he could not take not knowing the reason and asked Kaiya who was looking like she was trying to bury herself in her hoodie.
“Because she's busy,” Kaiya shrugged, bringing out her phone and leaning on the car.
Busy? It was summer, you’re supposed to have fun during summer. Even he (someone who is dedicated to upholding responsibilities even during summer break) is taking time for leisure because it’s summer. What could you possibly be busy with that would make you unable to come and enjoy a getaway? Why wasn’t his sister reacting more to this? Usually, Kaiya would be the one most sulky about not being able to bring you along with us despite her grown age. Was Keiji the only one finding your no-show bothering?
“You’re not whining about not seeing her? You’re all grown up,” Keiji smiles, trying to get a reaction out of his sister.
“Of course I’m all grown up! Don’t act like you’re that much older than me,” Kaiya glares, “And I see [name] almost every day, I’ll see her after the trip,” she stuck her tongue out as if taunting. She smirked right after and Keiji had his suspicions that Kaiya must be trying to get something out of him as well. They think too alike, he adores his sister but he'd rather she not pry much right now when he's distraught and trying to compose himself because it shouldn't be too obvious that he's feeling distraught.
Kaiya could see you whenever she wanted, you went to the same university and lived on campus together. Somehow that gave him a bad feeling in his stomach, the reason is not that his sister specifically spends more time with you—that's a given because of your years of friendship—but because he couldn't spend much time with you. There was a clear difference.
He was feeling strange again, it was still a strange and unfamiliar feeling despite him not exactly being single his whole life. After months of being away for college and work, going home included seeing you and now that he doesn’t get to do exactly that is making him feel drowsy. He thought that he could sidetrack himself from further developing these feelings of his but it didn't work (he entertained a few people the past year because he was trying to get you off his mind—which was no use, you were always there and will always be there). Sometimes he'd think of you and he'd have the urge to message you (he gives in to his desire to talk to you most of the time), or sometimes he would look at old photos of you two—which was not much.
There was a time in the middle of band practice where he kept staring off into space because he remembered a time where you asked him to teach you how to play a few chords on a guitar and he remembered the way you laughed and how your skin felt when he was arranging your fingers on the strings properly. They had to start over and over on practicing a song because Keiji kept misremembering lines when the thought of you was making him flustered. Even Atsumu had started asking him if he would be alright performing for the gig they booked the following night. That was only one of the many instances you clouded his thoughts.
This feeling was driving him insane.
He took a deep breath to control himself because the thought of missing you was eating him away. He wanted to see you. You’ve exchanged texts and some calls over the past months but it wasn’t enough, you were one of the reasons he was looking forward to coming back home and he foolishly thought he would get to see you eventually because you’d always be there.
He’d like to take it back, it wasn’t like getting hit by a bullet per se, Keiji would equate it more to poison. The kind that slowly seeped in and made it so that it was difficult to breathe. To function. Keiji sighed and resigned himself to the irony that he was slowly ticking the boxes of the criteria that made him believe he was otherwise susceptible to the kind of blinding affection one could have towards someone.
Keiji didn’t know when exactly he entered the car, the whole journey sure felt enlightening with the way he could finally put a name to his actions towards you. He really couldn’t take it anymore and messaged you, asking why you couldn’t join the trip. It was better to hear it from you, and it also eased him a bit. Perhaps in a while, he could bring up meeting with you over the next weeks, that wouldn’t be too strange.
Fate was on his side and he got his wish of seeing you more frequently during summer break. You agreed to hang out with him and you spent it by usually going to the theaters, a museum, or simply eating out. He didn’t mind what you guys would do, he enjoyed even just passing by stores with you. Whenever Kaiya and you would hang out, you would drop by which would lead to conversations in the living room while waiting for his sister to get ready (Keiji knew his sister was also using him for a free ride but it’s not like he would complain since it means more time with you). The last week of the break was his sister’s birthday and he had enjoyed picking out gifts for her with your guidance, it did make him feel a bit empty knowing he’d have to spend months without being with you again.
Despite all his worries, he remained focused on the present. Him, Kaiya, you, and a few other of his cousins were splayed in a circle in the living room of the villa where Kaiya’s birthday was celebrated, playing a game of truth or dare. Keiji watched as Kaiya spun the bottle and as its momentum slowed, the tip of the bottle pointed at his cousin Hiroki.
A mischievous grin spread on Kaiya’s lips, she glanced once at you then back at Hiroki, “So, who would you say is your type? Answer honestly! It’s my birthday,” she slurred her words, the alcohol kicking in. If she couldn’t have been more obvious, she started clinging to you.
Hiroki looked like a deer in headlights, glancing at his sister Aiki beside him and narrowed his eyes at her, “You told her?”
“I did no such thing, you’re just too obvious,” Aiki stirred her glass of wine and winked at you whose smile was a bit strained, Keiji could tell you were starting to feel awkward. Are they trying to set you and Hiroki up? Keiji could easily put two and two together with how his cousins and sister were acting right now. He was a bit frustrated that he could only be a bystander along with his other cousins and a few of Kaiya’s other close friends, he was trying to suppress the urge to interfere.
“Answer now!” Kaiya pressed, shaking your arm while pointing a finger at Hiroki.
Keiji could only look at you. How would you react? Would you like that Hiroki feels that way about you? Keiji found himself clutching his drink. Would your cheeks warm? Would you feel light and fluttery? Would you feel the same way about Hiroki? Keiji was only giving himself pain with his train of thought.
Hiroki then quickly drank a shot of alcohol for liquid courage, “Fine, my ideal type is [name],” Hiroki then looked everywhere but you after exclaiming that to everyone in the room. The people around cheered and most started teasing you too.
Keiji locked eyes with you, he tilted his head as if asking a question, and of course, the only question coming to mind now was ‘What do you feel about Hiroki?’. It was how you felt that mattered the most rather than his disdain for the situation. Hiroki was nice enough, but surely you didn’t know each other that well for you to harbor any feelings for his cousin. What if you did? You knew of his cousin’s existence and saw him a lot (not enough). What if Keiji never realized you already had long-term feelings for someone else because he never liked to entertain the idea of you liking someone who wasn't him? 
Keiji wanted to bang his head on the wall right now. He was thinking irrationally, but being selfish was natural because he liked you, right? It was okay that he was feeling like he wanted to grab your hand and run away to a place where it could just be you and him. He never tried asking you if you currently liked anyone so he could continue to live in the fantasy of the possibility that you liked him back.
You only blinked at him before you were distracted by his sister hovering over you and saying nonsense Keiji didn’t bother to listen to. It was getting very obvious that you wanted to escape the conversation, Keiji noticed how you fiddled with your shirt and the way your eyes kept wandering to the door. Keiji took it upon himself to pull his sister away from you, “Stop it, you’re making [name] and Hiroki uncomfortable.”
His sister looked up at him with an accusing gaze, “You!”
“Yes?” he successfully pried her away from you which earned him a small smile, the simple action from you felt as if a weight was removed from his shoulders.
“Stop taking my best friend away from me!” Kaiya states as Keiji lets her go, stomping back to her place beside you.
“What do you mean?” Keiji was honestly confused about what Kaiya meant, he would not be sorry if ever that would be the actual case though.
“Don’t you think I don’t know about you two hanging out without me!” Kaiya exclaimed, ah so that’s what she meant and here Keiji thought she had a hint about his feelings towards you, or perhaps she does? But Kaiya was too drunk right now to think coherently. 
“Everyone knows Keiji actually has two sisters,” Aiki laughs, giving Keiji that distraught feeling once again. Does everyone in his family think Keiji treats you like a sister? Or do they think he could never feel that way about you? Why? What can he do to make them stop thinking like that? What if you thought you were like a sister to him? Keiji could feel nothing but panic.
Later that night Keiji found you alone out in the gardens of the villa, it looks like he wasn’t the only one who had a hard time sleeping.
“Can’t sleep?” he calls out, startling you. You turn to him with your shawl wrapped tightly around your shoulders, you visibly relax when you see that it was just him.
A smile spread on your face, “Yeah, you too?”
Keiji nodded and watched as you sat on the bench, he walked towards you and leaned on the tree beside it. He wouldn’t be able to think of the right words to say if he was sitting right next to you, he was still hung up on what happened earlier this evening.
“So… I have to get back to campus the day after tomorrow,” you broke the silence, sighing after you laid out your news.
“Ah,” was the only thing Akaashi could say to the reminder that your time together was limited, “I’m leaving the same day, the weeks sure went by fast.”
That’s not what he really wanted to say though, he wanted to question you about what you felt when Hiroki practically said he liked you. Keiji wanted to know if you would be alright with seeing him again in the near future, you didn’t have to waste money on commuting, he could drive to you. Perhaps you could even attend some of his gigs, it would be exhilarating to see you watch him again. He wanted to say a lot of things to you but the only thing he could say was, “I don’t think of you like a sister.”
“Huh?” you looked up at him under your lashes, the moonlight set its rays upon you and it was similar to that moment in his kitchen a year ago. The moment that made him realize he was feeling for you deeper than he should.
“I wanted to clarify that I don’t think of you as a sister, everyone seems to get the wrong idea,” Keiji took a deep breath, he was so near to telling the truth that he was finding it difficult to breathe again. He was staring right into you and if the truth didn’t spill from his lips, he wondered if you could see it in his eyes, “They were right about one thing though.”
As if hypnotized, you stayed in place as Akaashi couldn’t restrain himself anymore and reached for your hand, catching it firmly in his grasp, “You mean a lot to me.”
“I… you mean a lot to me too, Keiji,” those words that came from your sweet voice was similar to harmony in his ears, it brought out an overwhelming feeling in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to be close to you. He can’t do that yet though, it’s not the right time.
Akaashi Keiji never thought he would experience the kind of love that was heart-racing, mind-clouding, immense, and overflowing, but he was wrong. Every moment spent with you proved it wrong, what else could explain the loss of sense and rationality whenever you were near? But he was still him after all. So he would approach this in the only way he knows, slowly but surely. You were worth it after all.
That’s why it didn’t matter how long it took for him to profess his love for you, he needs to make sure that he’s shown you that his love deserves to be reciprocated. That he deserves someone as precious as you.
It was never easy, he never expected that it would just be easy. Yet the day came when he held your hand tightly in his once again, his nerves barely being suppressed as he told you the reason for his years of pining. How he liked you, he liked you so much he could barely remember how he was before harboring feelings for you. It was blissful, it couldn’t be anything else but. He could finally be with you, after all, he had the right to be with you and it made him extremely happy. He would always be caught grinning to himself, it was to the point that Suna started asking him if he was alright because of his weird behavior. Akaashi wanted nothing more than to show you off to the world. 
Although, a certain request from you made it difficult to do just that. You had asked him if you both could keep your relationship a secret because of his growing fame and you didn’t want to be caught up in that world of his. He respected your decision and was willing to follow whatever you said. Your relationship lasted for many hours, days, and months. Even if he couldn’t spend a lot of time with you in the later years because of his job and there were rough times that occurred, his love for you outweighed. His resolve remained, that it didn’t matter how much time has or will pass, his love for you would never waver.
His heart felt as if it was pumping a hundred and twenty beats per minute, a single text from you got this reaction out of him. Even with years of being together, he could still never function normally around you. He had just gotten a text in the middle of his post-concert celebratory party with his bandmates and some of the other staff. It was a simple text—two words, six letters.
My Love 2:44 AM I’m here :) [insert picture of hotel lobby]
The familiar lobby of the hotel they were staying in for the week was clear in the picture. Akaashi was speechless, how could you be here? Was he dreaming? It was a thousand miles away from home but you’re here? For him? You were here for him?
He couldn’t leave his seat fast enough.
“Where are you going?” Sakusa asks. Akaashi didn’t think anyone would take notice if he suddenly left, but this was Sakusa here, he was simple enough to brush off, Atsumu would be more meddlesome.
“Hotel,” Akaashi started moving before he could be asked to elaborate, he couldn’t wait to see you already. He hurriedly put his cap on and passed by Sakusa once again.
“Hey, you’re still holding your dri–” Akaashi didn’t stay to hear the rest, he was feeling restless at the thought of you patiently waiting for him. He was out of the doors of the private room within minutes.
“Akaashi-san!” a hand was on his shoulder. Why does the world despise him at this very moment? He looked around and spotted Suna’s assistant. He should be glad that at least it wasn’t a fan, he loved his fans dearly but they would be more difficult to bypass. Turns out she was looking for Suna himself and couldn’t find the room. Akaashi quickly led her to the right place before rushing out again, he then realized he was still holding onto a drink and quickly left that on a counter. He should be walking faster so nothing else would stand in the way of him wrapping his arms around you and feeling your warmth after so many months of longing.
He was practically running towards his car, luckily he was still sane enough to drive properly. You would scold him for being reckless while driving, it was good that the hotel was only a few minutes away. Though it was a very agonizing ten minutes, the world was testing out his patience.
Finally, finally, he was in front of the doors which were the only thing separating him from you.
Once he gets inside, he sets his gaze on you immediately. Your shining eyes met his and you stood up from your seat, he hadn’t had a care in the world as he practically ran towards you and pulled you into an embrace. He should be thinking if his actions would earn him a trending article but he couldn’t find himself to care. The world will find out sooner or later how much you mean to him. He buried his face in your hair and hugged you impossibly tighter.
“Love, It’s a bit hard to breathe,” you pat him on his back, he can feel your grin on his shoulder.
“That’s exactly how I felt when you sent me that text message,” Keiji replies, hand clutching the back of your head, soaking in the reality that you’re actually here with him.
You fake a gasp, “So I deserve this?”
Akaashi gave a hum as a ‘yes’, “You deserve to be smothered with much more affection too,” he kissed the side of your head.
“Save that for later, please,” you say, warily looking at your surroundings, only the receptionist turning a blind eye was present.
He wastes no time and hesitantly lets you go in order to gather your suitcase, he intertwines your hand with his free hand. He leads you to the elevator and impatiently pushes the button to his floor. You, on the other hand, were leaning on his biceps as your eyes kept fluttering shut due to drowsiness from your flight. You left for your flight immediately after getting off work and you were tired from the hecticness.
Once you both arrived at Akaashi’s room, he spent no less than a minute putting things like his car keys and your suitcase away before pulling you towards the bedroom. He sat you down on the mattress and you had no time to protest (not like you would) before he placed all of his weight above you. With your back to the softness of the silky cover, you contentedly hummed and closed your eyes for a brief moment, “I need to change.”
“Five minutes,” Keiji then begins to caress your arms and bury his head on your chest, breathing you in once more.
Your hands fled to his hair, massaging the strands of raven and kissing the crown of his head, “I’ll only be staying for three days.”
A sound similar to a groan escaped from his throat, “That’s too soon.”
“I have a job too,” you laugh, “I was lucky enough to exchange with one of my coworkers so I could leave this weekend.”
“I miss you already,” Keiji practically whines, unlike his usual character.
“Don’t miss me while I’m still here,” you tugged at some of the strands on the back of his head, “And we’ll see each other again in three weeks, remember?” pertaining to their band’s final concert being held back in Japan, you would be watching the show alongside his family—who still don’t know about your relationship, the both of you have been having a difficult time bringing it up.
“Three weeks too long,” Keiji finally rose from half-suffocating you with his weight and instead started to look for clothes he could give you to change into, “You must be exhausted.”
“I’m not the one flying from country to country and performing for almost three hours every night,” you sat on the bed, using your elbows as support as you watched him shuffle through his luggage.
“Not every night,” Keiji comments before rising and handing you his clothes which you placed on your lap. He stood between your legs and used a hand to tilt your head up towards him, he was looking at you so intensely.
“Are you drunk?” you ask, squinting your eyes at him as you now only realize the slight haziness in his gaze. You knew he was in a mini celebration an hour before being here, but he said he hadn’t planned on drinking, “And you drove here?”
Keiji shook his head, drunk on you, possibly, “I barely had a glass, just to entertain the staff. I drove here safely, I swear.”
“You better have,” you give one more pointed look at him before falling back on the bed, you close your eyes. You were getting heavy-eyed, soon, sleep will win you over.
“You’re the one who said you had to change, only a few minutes have passed,” Akaashi chides you.
You groaned and opened one of your eyes and raised an arm, “Do it for me.”
Akaashi raised a brow, you were getting into one of your moods he was all too familiar with. Who was he to deny your request? He pulled you up to a sitting position once again, his hands on the hem of your shirt. Before he pulled it off you, he glanced up only to see you smiling languidly at him, “You love me so much,” you begin to tease.
“I do,” Keiji smiles softly at you.
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“Hey.”
“Hey!”
“Hello! Attention to [l/n] [name].”
You look at Kaiya who has been trying to get your attention for the past minute, “Sorry?” you give her a sheepish smile, your thoughts were on the mini-vacation you let yourself have with Akaashi a month ago. You spent the past thirty minutes or so letting her family simply drag you around because you were distracted by the crowd at Ikarus’ concert. You were waiting outside because Keiji’s mother wanted to fall in line and buy merch. Kaiya complained that they could just ask Keiji for the items she wanted but her mother shushed her saying that wasn’t as authentic. Keiji’s mom was set on having the “full fan experience”.
“Why are you so dazed?” she tilted her head to the side, which awfully reminded you of Keiji (you started missing him even more). “Because you’re seeing my brother?” Kaiya scrunched up her face and made a gagging sound, “Did you not just see him a few weeks ago?”
You started looking around, sighing in relief when you saw that Akaashi’s father was with his wife, “Watch what you say,” you pouted.
Kaiya glanced at where you were looking, “When are you planning to tell them?”
“Soon,” you shrugged, you admit you were still nervous about telling them about your long-term relationship with their son. It’s been years and you know it’s been long overdue, you were ready to face the backlash that would come with hiding your relationship from them for so long.
Kaiya shook her head at you and then proceeded to take something out of her purse, she laid out the card attached to a lanyard to you, “Before I forget, your backstage pass,” you took it from her gratefully. The glossy surface of the card hits the rays of the sun, and you observe the words ‘All Access’ shown under the band’s logo. It wasn’t the first time you’ve gone to his concerts so you were already familiar with the processes, you were even friendly with some of the staff.
“You girls go on ahead, it’s a bit hot and your mother is going to take a while,” Akaashi’s father jogs to you both and nudges Kaiya to go, “She’s raving on and on about having to get that mini version of Keiji and I admit I kind of want to get that version of their album with lots of little things inside too, I want to test out my luck and see if I could get your brother’s picture on a first try—you know those little cardboards with pictures right?”
“So you would rather see him in pictures rather than going inside and meeting the real deal?” Kaiya comments.
“Yes, now go,” Akaashi’s father smiles at you before running back to Mrs. Akaashi.
“Oh, whatever, let’s go,” Kaiya saunters to the arena as if she owned the place and you trailed behind her looking at the crowds of people waiting outside, the concert wasn’t starting in another three hours yet there were already tons who were in line. You kind of felt a bit bad because you could just go inside without any worries. These were people who adored the man you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend, not as much as you—you like to believe, no one knows and loves him more than you—but that was your more selfish side talking.
“Kaiya, do you even remember where the common room is?” you asked, your memory and sense of direction weren't well. The last time you went here was their opening concert which was over a year ago.
“Uh, no, but we’ll see someone we know soon,” Kaiya was confident, walking in a straight direction as if she knew where she was going. A bunch of the crew arranging lights and holding boxes were walking around but no faces you were familiar with. It wasn’t long before we were blocked by guards on the way to a segregated part of the building.
“Are you looking for the green room?” the guard asked, eyeing your passes and affirming that you were actually allowed to be here but the both of you clearly looked lost. Kaiya kept looking around, you thought she was acting suspicious (and the guard must think so too) so you grabbed her wrist to make her focus.
“I’m looking for my brother,” Kaiya took out her phone. You wanted to just ask the guard nicely to direct you guys to the waiting room.
“And your brother is…?” The guard looked like they wanted to get this over with too.
“Akaashi Keiji,” Kaiya looked up from her phone, “He said we should go to the dressing rooms,” she pointed at her device. You do not recall Keiji saying any of that, he hasn’t opened his phone in a while, he usually doesn’t use it hours before a performance to focus. You looked at Kaiya, wondering what she was planning up her sleeves.
“Kaiya-san? [name]-san?” a soft-spoken voice interrupted, the both of you turned to see Rika, Sakusa’s personal assistant if you remembered correctly. The familiar face came to you both when you needed it, “Are you guys looking for Akaashi-san? You can follow me. I'm on the way there because my cousin needs his coffee to calm his pre-show nerves,” she rolled her eyes.
Rika nodded at the guard who let her and you both through, you smiled at them before following Rika.
“How are you, Rika-san?” you asked, taking one of her bags to carry it for her since she was holding coffee and a folder with her.
“Been better, my cousin’s being a huge headache to me because of… some things,” she shook her head as if she was shouldering the world's heaviest burdens, “How are you and Akaashi-san?”
“I’m fine—wait, what?” that caught you off-guard, it made you halt in your tracks.
“Uhm… was I wrong? Are you both not in a relationship? Kiyoomi thought you were together as well,” Rika started walking again and soon you saw more people in the hallways.
Kaiya began to cackle, “Aha! I told you it was obvious.”
“You’re not wrong, Rika-san but uhm is it really that obvious?” you start to heat up, your cheeks suddenly feeling warm.
“Well, he always has his eyes on you whenever you two are in the same room and after observing your interactions for the past years that’s what I concluded. If it’s a secret, I’m sure a lot of people don’t have a clue, this lot isn’t very observant after all,” Rika shrugged, “Anyways! This is the main sitting area, further back are the dressing rooms. The guys just got ready so they must be just lounging around somewhere alone, they’re all doing their pre-show rituals most likely.”
The both of you thanked Rika and you handed her bag back as she went on ahead mumbling about having to practically play hide and seek with how difficult Sakusa would be to find. Kaiya linked her arm with yours and dragged you once again to find the dressing room with Keiji’s name on it.
Once you both were in front of the door, Kaiya began her incessant knocking that is sure to give Keiji confusion and a headache all at once knowing his staff would never make such a ruckus, “I have a delivery for an Akaashi Keiji,” she was snickering in between her words while you shook your head at her antics.
It wasn’t long before the door opened and you were greeted with the sight of Keiji ladled with accessories he wouldn’t usually put on in day-to-day life, such as stud earrings you were really liking the look of. You looked up at him only to see his eyes which were decorated with a brownish hue on the lids that were already on yours. Perhaps Rika did have a point.
“[name],” he said breathlessly and was already holding your free hand that wasn’t being clutched by the other Akaashi on your side.
“I’m here too! You’re welcome!” Kaiya exclaimed, pulling you back so Keiji wouldn’t successfully get a hold of you.
“Hi Kaiya,” Keiji smiled at his sister, still not letting go of you too. Kaiya eyed that action and then looked up at her older brother who was looking at her blankly. Kaiya and you could both tell that Keiji was trying to tell her sister to leave, you were holding back your full-on grin.
“I accept thanks in the form of cash,” Kaiya patted your forearm before pushing you towards Keiji’s chest, the latter caught you in time and pulled you closer.
“Check your account after the show,” was Keiji’s only reply before bringing you inside and shutting the door.
“I feel as if your relationship has been turning transactional over the years,” you comment, finally letting out your laugh at the siblings’ antics. Kaiya meant well, of course, the monetary things were just a bonus. You looked around the room, spotting a guitar in the middle of the room and the mirrors on the walls which immediately caught your eye. A black settee was against the wall and a small glass table was on the side.
“I think she still holds a grudge against me for ‘taking you away’,” Keiji raises a hand to tuck loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “Because I was never sorry about it.”
His words gave you that fluttery feeling in your stomach that you’ve learned to become used to whenever you were around him, “Poor Kaiya,” you reached out a hand to cup his cheek, he buried his face in your hand and placed a feather-light kiss on your palm.
Keiji talked to you with his eyes, it was a question and a request all at once. You bit your lower lip as you observed his plump, gloss-stained one's part. Suddenly, it was all too suffocating and difficult to breathe if you didn't lean your face against his and capture the oxygen you badly needed. It seems he was thinking the same thing because he started leaning closer to you as if the urge to be nearer couldn’t be subdued.
But before he could relieve both of your longings, you took a step back, blinking and urging your senses to come back to normal, “You just got ready,” the staff’s best interest in mind.
Akaashi tilted his head to the side, that hazy look back in his eyes, “It can be fixed,” he held both of your arms in his grasp, caressing them in a way to ease and comfort you.
“Your stylist will hate me,” you pointed out, yet you were engrossed with the way he pulled you towards the couch. You had a slight feeling you were being tricked in order for Akaashi to get what he wanted at this particular moment, which was the same thing you were depriving yourself of.
Keiji sat down and his hands went down to your upper leg and gently nudged so you followed down, the plush of your thighs settled on his. You internally scold yourself for giving in, he knows all of your weak points, one of them was how you could be easily distracted by him, “I’ll take the scolding, my love.”
Your arms were wrapped around his neck, you tugged on the hair on his nape as you let your breath tangle with his. He was intoxicating, did he know he was intoxicating? Your eyes fluttered to a close because you couldn’t take it anymore and pressed your lips against his, he let out a satisfied groan on the back of his throat. You took in the woody scent of his cologne, the silken texture of his hair, and the pillowy almost velvet feel of his lips on yours. You should really be thinking of the consequences of your actions and the amount of people who will be burdened after this ordeal, yet, right now you could only enjoy the searing heat of his skin igniting with yours.
You felt one of his hands that held a grip on your thighs climb to your waist, he tugged on the material of your shirt before sliding his hand underneath. It elicited a small gasp from you which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth.
That was when your phone started to ring to an all too familiar tune, in a daze you pulled away from him, much to his opposition, “That’s Kaiya calling,” you say, leaning your forehead on his.
Akaashi took your phone out from your pocket before putting it on the side, “She can manage to wait for a few more seconds,” he said, placing soft kisses on your cheeks and eventually capturing your lips in his.
You laughed at his reasoning before losing yourself in him once again, his hand was splayed on your stomach, caressing your skin. He pulled away and pecked you on the lips once more before leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw. You feel his teeth nip on your skin and a shiver runs over your spine.
The sudden opening of the door and a shriek made you freeze.
“Oh my!”
“Agh, my eyes!”
Akaashi’s reflexes were faster and more alert as he flipped you over so he would be hiding you from the door, he knew how you would be feeling uncomfortable with eyes on you and you were grateful his first thought was to shield you from further embarrassment. You glanced at his state, his messy hair and the stain on his lips smudged. You took it upon yourself to start fixing his appearance by wiping the sides of his mouth since it was your fault.
Keiji started straightening his clothes and patting down his hair as you did the same before he faced his parents and sister. You looked over his shoulder to see his mother frozen and you winced. Your heart started to race and not in the nice way Keiji made you feel, Keiji noticed this change in your demeanor as well and you felt him place his hand on yours in an effort to calm you down.
“This was probably why Kaiya was calling you,” Keiji mumbled under his breath, it was an effort to make the atmosphere lighter for you. He gave you a small smile before urging you to stand up. Keiji faced his parents and his sister who were all standing by the door, Kaiya was exaggeratingly fanning their mother who still wasn’t moving, with your hand still in his, he claimed, “[name] and I are dating, we have been for a few years now.”
A brief silence went over the room and it felt like an eternity for you when it was actually just a few seconds. Keiji’s father broke the smothering quietness.
“I knew it! You owe me, honey,” his father said with a loud cackle, his hand splayed out to Keiji’s mother beside him, “I told you our son’s feelings for dear [name] weren’t one-sided!”
“No!” their mother unfroze and put her hands in her palms.
You and Keiji were confused, even Kaiya stilled from her place.
“You bet on this happening?” Keiji asked, pulling you closer to his side so your nerves would rest.
“No, my son, your mother thought that you and [name] weren’t dating yet and that you were only pining for her while I said you both were already in a relationship. I had faith in you, son, I knew you had a backbone,” his father laughed in delight once more and swung an arm over his mother’s shoulders.
“We saw a picture of [name] in your room when we stayed at your penthouse a few months ago,” his mother tried to explain, hitting his father on the chest.
You recalled that very picture, you were wearing a sundress and were in the middle of looking back when Keiji took the picture. You were laughing and clutching your beach hat over your head in an attempt to not let the wind carry it away with the breeze. When you first saw it displayed in his room, you complained that there were a lot of better pictures of you but Keiji rebutted that this was the first one he took of you looking at him and that’s why he cherished it the most.
“Guess you guys were all worried for nothing!” Kaiya found herself and backed away from her parents, “I’d like to say that I was the original person who knew by the way, and I kept it in for so long. Not that they weren’t obvious,”
Akaashi clearly felt how you were being restless, he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Are you okay, love?”
You rub your wrist as you look up at him, “Well I’m honestly feeling a bit mortified.”
“You guys should've locked the door,” Kaiya said in a sing-song tone, “Imagine how I feel? I did not push you in this room for that. How could I possibly know you’d jump each other the moment you were left alone? I always thought you guys were rated G!”
You feel your face heating up once again and Keiji scolding his sister, “Perhaps you should go and call your stylist,” you suggest, trying to save some of your dignity.
Keiji eyes his sister and she got the hint and shuffled her parents—who were still arguing—out the door. You knew this wasn’t the end of it and a lot of explaining will have to be given to his parents (they wouldn’t leave you guys alone otherwise). With your eyes on the door, Keiji tried taking your attention by softly turning your face towards his.
“How do you feel?” he asks, smiling warmly at you.
“It’s… nice that we don’t have to hide it anymore,” you pressed your forehead on his chest, “I’m still feeling shy though.”
Keiji wrapped his arms around you and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “How much time do you need to recover?”
“A minute and more of your hugs perhaps?” you ask, burying your face more in his chest. You should be urging him to go to his stylist already, but it wouldn’t be bad to keep him for another minute or so.
“I’m sorry they found out in an… unconventional way,” with your head pressed against his chest you could feel the rumble of his voice, the deep and lulling sound helping you calm down.
“Okay, I think I’m okay now,” you tried stepping away but he held you in your place, “Why?”
“I still need to recharge,” Keiji engulfs you in his warmth once more, “After this, it’s no more alone time. I’d have to wait another eight hours for that, so I need to get my fill now.”
Another round of silence baited and the only thing you could hear was the steady beat of his heart, it made you smile. Quiet moments with him came few and far in-between but when they did come, it felt as if the whole world was on your side and everything would always be okay.
“You’re so good to me, Keiji,” your voice cracks in the way of your emotions.
He responds by embracing you impossibly tighter, “What do you think about living together?” he drops the question, “It’s just something I’ve been thinking over, we don’t have to rush or anything but I just wanted to know what you think.”
It wouldn’t be too odd of a question, you practically spent every waking moment together whenever you both had the chance. That included staying over at each other’s places and spending most of your time together indoors. He’d love to spend more days waking up next to you, whenever you were there he felt nothing but peace and he wouldn’t mind for that feeling to stay with him for the rest of his life. The cheers of the crowd were exhilarating but the silence spent with you was more fulfilling.
“I’d love that,” you say, standing on your tiptoes and placing a kiss on his cheek.
You looked up at him under your lashes and Keiji felt that rush of intensifying feelings coming over him, his hands came to cup both of your cheeks as he placed a quick kiss on the tip of your nose, “I’d like to know of your thoughts in another matter that’s been on my mind,” he said in a hoarse voice.
“What is it?” your tone was light and airy. A few minutes from now you’ll have to give way for his staff to get him ready for the world. Right now you’d like to keep him to yourself, the world can wait.
“What do you think about marriage?”
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HEADLINE:
Ikarus’ lead vocalist Akaashi Keiji announces he’s married!
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leia @keijisrealgf I WAS SIMPING FOR A MARRIED MAN????? 4:20 PM · Jun 23 20XX
pia @ikarusavedme not even a girlfriend or an engagement.. but MARRIAGE 4:18 PM · Jun 23 20XX
kei @menexceptikarus he always gave family man vibes not surprised ngl 4:27 PM · Jun 23 20XX
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a/n — alright so i went a bit overboard with this one JWBDEJXBDN ill say this is for taking so long to conclude akaashi's story lmao
general taglist + @luvrsthrist @cherries4denki @cloud-lyy @misscaller06 @noideawhothatis @wolffmaiden @rivaiken @wooasecret @Eclecticlandmughoagie @nicerthanu @sukunasrealgf @ris-krispie @seiamor @electriclovei @leeknowsarchive @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @sexyandcringe @rinheartshyunlix @wh0zumy2k @iluv-ace @xiakyo @sanaexus @clyches @noble-17
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bibliophilesince2003 · 2 months ago
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Transformers One In-Depth Review
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Transformers One is a must watch.
I’m tired of seeing a bad review go towards a movie that is actually extremely well done, especially if the reviewer hadn’t taken the time to watch it or considered the trailers enough content to draw a review from.
Seriously, it was so refreshing to see a new take on a franchise that has been around for years. In my personal opinion, it’s better than re-makes that offer even less room for creativity.
I am a huge Transformers fan. I grew up with Transformers Prime, and when I was older, I watched the movies. I’ve watched other shows here and there, and while I may not be a complete expert, I know the lore well enough to have been heavily, emotionally impacted by Transformers One.
I’ll start with the "non-spoiler take" followed by the "spoiler take” which will be “hidden” for those who do not want to be spoiled.
"Non-spoiler" take...
Peter Cullen’s voice is legendary. Chris Hemsworth himself acknowledged this in an interview, mentioning that the goal was to “re-create” and “do something new.” He intended to represent a “youthful, brash, and cocky version” of Orion Pax before he was known as Optimus Prime. This is a realistic representation. In Transformers Prime, Ratchet states that Optimus Prime was more like Jack in his youth. For those of you who don’t know, Jack is a strong-willed, selfless, but slightly impulsive teenager, as all teenagers should be. It is clear that Hemsworth has evaluated “hints” that other movies and shows have provided. Hemsworth wanted to “lean into” a more serious voice towards the end of Transformers One. He insisted “he wouldn’t dare mimic Peter Cullen.” I highly respect his choices, and he does not deserve the amount of hate thrown at him. Now, Orion Pax also comes across as a humble, soft-spoken character in other movies and shows. However, I can see why they would lean into his impulsiveness to better highlight and contrast the relationship between Orion Pax and D-16, especially as D-16’s true colors show. More about that in the “spoiler” section, though!
No, it would not have made sense for Orion Pax to have a deep, majestic voice. That comes with experience; that comes with hard decisions. Quite honestly, Hemsworth is pretty close to what I had imagined Orion Pax to sound like. It’s still slightly deep, and very soothing.
The character development in this movie? Oh. My. Word. Guys, as a writer, I can say that subtle character development – the best kind – is not easy to do. In Transformers One, it flowed naturally. It made me smile. It broke my heart. If you’ve seen other Transformers movies and shows, brace yourself. If you haven’t, still brace yourself. Again, more about that in the “spoiler” section.
The humor in the trailers has been re-posted so heavily I think it’s beginning to lose its effect and people, not knowing the context, are quick to judge. Yes, Bee is funny. It’s Bee. He’s supposed to be lovable, humorous, loyal, and powerful. I found no issue with most of the humor coming from him. There is more humor that is not mentioned in the trailers that is really worth chuckling over.
Finally, the fight scenes were clean, the animation was captivating, and the incredible Brian Tyler produced musical masterpieces for most every scene, some of it connecting to other movies and shows.
"Spoiler" take, now!
I expected to dislike Elita. Really, I did. I knew she was the “love interest” for Optimus Prime beforehand and expected big things from her, because Optimus Prime never struck me as having a “love interest” in the past. Not only that, but I expected her to be the female character I seem to find everywhere these days who strives to be better than everyone else without a lick of experience, complaining about the male figures in her life.
Elita, however, is ambitious. She leads. She doesn’t have to prove anything; she’s simply willing to work hard and do her job. Understandably, she gets upset with Orion Pax and the others when they interrupt her progress, though I can’t help but be amused by Orion Pax’s shy attempt to get her attention and adored his subtle acts of kindness. Sure, she’s a tad bit aggressive – she did punch Orion Pax, after all – but I really enjoyed seeing her adapt. When Orion Pax was feeling hopeless, she was there to encourage him. If she had stopped talking immediately after saying “I’m better” I would have been frustrated. Orion Pax and D-16 are the main characters in Transformers One, after all. She didn’t stop there, though. She highlighted the most important aspects of Orion Pax; his good heart, selflessness, and bravery. She told Shockwave and the others to shut up and listen to Orion Pax when they doubted his plan. She encouraged him to speak louder when others couldn’t hear him. She leaned towards the pit when Orion Pax fell.
Not only that, but Orion Pax was incredibly patient with her. He woke her up when she was unconscious and immediately took a punch to the face like a champ. He gently, subtlety smiled at her when they traveled to the surface and Elita announced "it's beautiful." He cried out her name and pushed her out of the way to save her during a battle. He listened to her. He told her to beat Arachnid “gently” when Elita managed to detain her, proving he fully understood Elita’s personality.
I’m sorry, but this kind of relationship takes the cake. If they’re meant to be a couple, I can see the signs. I love how well they work together and build each other up.
Bee is an icon. One of my favorite scenes is him eagerly saying to Orion Pax “I’m going to go cut these guys up, watch! C’MERE!” It’s like a proud kid trying to get their parent to watch. I love how loyal he is to Orion Pax right off the bat.
While they changed some lore in Transformers One, they included everything that was important. Orion Pax and D-16 are miners, but it seems Orion Pax may have been a clerk beforehand. When he broke into the archives, he seemed to know where he was going. When he ran, I can’t remember exactly, but I believe he was muttering numbers? I don’t mind the small twists and can see how they were necessary for the story; key details are kept.
Jazz and Ratchet mention! I was so excited to hear their names. Kind of wish they had shown Ratchet, maybe shouting “I needed that!” to a fumbling worker. Sorry, Transformers Prime reference.
Arachnid had an incredible design.
Sentinel is a well-written, hate-worthy villain. I… did not expect D-16 to rip him in half, though.
Also… can I just mention how epic that particular scene was? The switch from D-16 reaching his peak character development – showing no mercy – while Orion Pax reached his – making the ultimate sacrifice to preserve life and do things the right way; receiving the Matrix of Leadership. The music, the animation, the slow-motion… everything was incredibly cinematic.
Obviously, D-16 took things too far. I appreciated the fact that he didn’t just wake up one day and decide to be evil. It took time. It took motivation. Obviously, any sane person would stand with Optimus Prime, though he does make mistakes from time to time, but it was incredibly neat to actually appreciate D-16’s insight in the beginning, then notice the shift and feel every bit of emotion Orion Pax felt.
People say the ending is rushed, or that D-16’s change came too abruptly without any good motivation. Sure, the ending may be a little rushed, but movies are typically structured this way. Falling action does not have a set speed; it just needs to be well done. Bad things happen in a rush, and this leaves ample opportunity for the “good guys” to react a little too slowly. As for D-16’s motivation… even a person can take their worship of an item or figure too far. Megatronus was someone to look up to in D-16’s eyes. He agreed to Orion Pax’s plans, or at least tolerated them, but his admiration for Megatronus was his own interest. Orion Pax threatened that vision. D-16 wanted to kill Sentinel to satisfy his own needs and desires, not to liberate others. Sentinel deserved death after committing murder, yes. He didn’t, however, deserve a public execution, especially as he tried to get away and was relatively defenseless. Remember, Sentinel told D-16 and Bee that he would execute them in front of everyone. We can acknowledge his promise as brutal, so shouldn't D-16's actions be considered brutal, too? No "reason" could ever justify it.
When D-16 let Orion Pax drop, he proved he no longer cared about loyalty. The least he could do was hoist Orion Pax’s body up or break down after losing what he once called his best friend, but he didn’t.
It’s ironic… D-16 said “I’m done saving you” when in reality, Orion Pax was trying to save D-16 from doing something he knew D-16 should have regretted doing. Normally, yes, D-16 is the voice of reason, but not in this case. For once, this is where Orion Pax’s true personality shines through. His spark – the spark of a Prime – is in the right place. Orion Pax puts joking aside when serious matters arise. It seems D-16 didn’t really know his friend after all. The actions D-16 committed, my friends, are not actions you want to celebrate.
I really, really hope Transformers One gains more attention. We need the sequel! Transformers fans, tell your friends. Give an honest review, which are of more value than the reviews given by those who didn’t take the time to watch it. Hype it up and roll out!
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ivys-garden · 9 months ago
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Alright, I'm going to write my own thoughts down on the situation, sorry if this gets rambly
First of all, Shubble is so brave for speaking up, it's really hard for victims to speak up against there abusers in a public setting and she deserves all the respect in the world for it
That being said we do need to be mindful to give her space, this was a really traumatic thing for her and we all need to be mindful of that, give her room to breath.
On the same lines, don't go after other ccs for not ""releasing statements"", content creators aren't companies, there people. Don't get on at them for not publicly supporting Shubble, especially since there undoubtedly doing it in private, which is probably better than shoving it out there for millions of people to see. Let people support there friend in a way they and shubble are confortable with, if shubble wants them to say something or they think they need to say something themselves, they will say it.
It's like Pearl said, just because you don't see something happening publicly doesn't mean it isn't happening
Also, don't jump to call Tommy or Phil or Grian or anyone else enablers because they haven't said anything, they'll need time to process this too, it's hard to find out that your friend is a domestic abuser, let them process this in piece and don't try to cancel them over nothing like a fool. (People like Tommy will need time especially since Wilbur befriended them when they were young and by all accounts manipulated them too)
If anyone of these people have anything they feel they need to say they'll say it when there good and ready, good life tip folks:Don't Harass People. Especially if they have almost nothing to do with this (honestly Saw someone say they were going to go on to fucking RT about this despite him not knowing either person very well, the fuck)
I know why people do it, they want to make sure there favourite content creators aren't also bad, but they are people and they deserve respect, I can garentee you that almost no Qsmp or Hermitcraft or Other MCYT member who knew him stands with Wilbur
(Also if anyone brings Techno into this fuck right off let the man rest.)
Also, some brain dead morons are saying that people calling out wilbur are doing it for clout and that they should have done it sooner, but most of the abuse happened in private, and wilbur manipulated others, many wouldn't have realised anything was wrong and if they did its still better and more respectful to come forward after shubble since its HER story to tell.
(This attack also doesn't work anymore because we have things like tubbos stream, where he actively discourages his chat from treating him like a hero for speaking out, but yeah sure they all don't give a shit about shubble and just want to make themselves look better, fuck outta here)
Now, if your a former wilbur fan, let me make this super clear
DONT WATCH HIM AND DONT LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC
"BuT SePuRaTe ThE ArT FrOm ThE Arti-
Nah. That doesn't work here. You can separate a book or game or movie, you can't with a cc. Its there face, there voice, there personality. Find a different band, find a different CC to watch. There are other options, I know it sucks to find out someone you like did an awful thing,but that doesn't mean we should support those people for our sakes, especially when people were actively hurt by there actions. Trust me everyone, this will get better, things will go back to how they were before
Finally, this should go without saying, Fuck William Gold to the core of teh fucking earth. And any who still support him.
He is a raging egotistical manipulator and abuser. don't blame people for not seeing it sooner, no one can do that. What we can do though is blame people who still wholeheartedly support him and his actions.
He has not "changed" nor will he ever at the rate at which he's going. He's still a egomaniac who's more concerned with saving his image than actually apologising for his actions, even then an apology wouldn't fix all he's done,it would just be closer and a jumping off point to be better, but he can't even fucking do that.
If wilbur does reflect and grow, good on him, but if he doesn't then I can say with absolute certainty we wouldn't fucking miss him.
Fuck Wilbur. Support Shelbym
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vhstown · 1 year ago
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miles g morales ★ general headcanons
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warnings: sort of angsty, mentions of his dad's death, money being tight and such 😞
a/n: hi my little piranhas im feeding you today say AHHHHHHHH.... all my random non-relationship miles g thoughts dumped into one! he has 6 lines but less is more right 😁 im okay i promi
Let me just geek out about his non-existent gear functions for a moment 😞 Miles is all about little modifications and improvement so when he messes around with his uncle's gear he decides to make some adjustments to the design and also the functionality. Has his own spin to all of his gear cause a part of him really wants to be like the superheroes he sees in comics with their own sort of persona. But of course it has to be functional so...!
All of his gear is coordinated and he has a mode where he can turn off all the lights for stealth and such! The lights are actually off most of the time but he puts them on to show off mostly or make himself known when he's bored of waiting.
A really cool function would be if he could redirect or offset his lights so when he's fighting in complete darkness he can easily confuse his enemies. Tends to scope out places and mess around with the power supplies — uses the occasional smoke bomb too. He's in his element in dark, maze-like places, which essentially makes Brooklyn his concrete playground.
Scarily good at lockpicking. Has broken into his own house multiple times from forgetting his keys. He can open most doors with simple tools and disable electronic locks with a little work.
Can I just mention his shoes as well... they're like the jumpy shoes from Subway Surfers you can't prove me wrong until the next movie comes out like— Okay no but seriously I imagine he can stick to surfaces and things and maybe they can propell him upwards? You see those glowing lights idk figure it out 😞
Also somebody (I have no idea who but here's the link to the original post) had a headcanon that he'd have a high auditory intelligence, so for a while, he spends time developing a voice modulator. He likely has one anyway to keep his identity a secret, but what he really wants to do is is create a device that can replicate other people's voices.
Because he's good with sound and physics he makes it work in no less than a few weeks. The first voice he tries is his uncle's and he says a bunch of dumbass stuff. (Aaron is a little annoyed but more proud of his nephew than anything.) Eventually it gets to the point where he can calibrate it with a couple clicks since he has such a good ear for frequencies and the like that deceiving villains is no trouble at all.
I think Aaron and Miles would still have that cool uncle and nephew relationship but its also a mentor and student one. While Miles is good at the tech stuff I think he's a pretty lousy fighter at the beginning and Aaron has to teach him a LOT.
Uncle Aaron probably used to fight for sport back in the day (boxing mayhaps? 😁) so a lot of Miles' technique stems from MMA due to its versatility (anything hand-to-hand at least.) Even then, most of the problem is being able to think quick and act quicker, so Miles goes through lots of practical training (so he's being chased by the Sinister Six from day one 😭) It's well worth it though because without the Spider-powers he has a lot of catching up to do.
While training with Aaron he's exposed to a lot of his old records and develops a taste for jazz. He comes to associate certain manoeuvres with the way the music goes, so he tends to hum to himself while casually knocking the wind out of people. His uncle finds it just a little creepy, but again, he's glad to see Miles coming along.
In fact, Aaron is relieved. His nephew had been reserved and was pretty much holed up in his own room for weeks after his dad passed. Of course the passing of Jefferson was hard on Aaron, but Miles has it even harder. Eventually, they decide to paint the mural together, and Miles lets Aaron know what's on his mind. He's always been close to his uncle but especially then spending time roaming the streets, painting, boxing and listening to old records was his lifeline.
Miles figures out his uncle is the Prowler before Aaron even lets him in on it. After seeing how determined his nephew his is, that's when it all started.
But with everything going on in his vigilante life, his normal life is something he has has to be careful not to fall behind on. At the age where college applications are coming up, Miles is driven to the bone with school, despite not actually being there half the time. Still, he's somehow averaging As and the occasional B, easily the top of his class in AP Physics and Calc.
He doesn't try to talk to people in school like he might've before, but he's not antisocial by any means (sometimes his bluntness is mistaken for talking back though 💀)
He's also the type of dude to do homework as soon as the teacher hands it out, because he knows he will not have time later (and to avoid all the night-before crises of freshman year.)
Rio is being pulled thin too, always covering shifts for her colleagues at the hospital just so she can have a little extra pay. She's been saving for Miles' birthday since his last one, always checks his clothes for holes or if they still fit, and makes sure there's something in the microwave if she can't be there for dinner. Rio makes sure he always has everything he needs, even while paying bills and rent. They're not struggling too much, but it's not like they can do whatever they want.
Despite that, they're managing; what she doesn't know is that the sigh of relief she breathes every month is because of him. Miles always makes sure to take care of his belongings, put in any cash he makes from his "part time job" into her account, just doing whatever he can to help. Also, he's become more and more protective of his mom, and he always takes the opportunity to do errands for her, especially when it's getting dark outside.
Miles is actually more paranoid than her when it comes to saving. Even when it's winter, and she tells him to turn on the heating whenever, you best believe he's throwing on his jacket in his own room and firming the cold. It's entirely unnecessary of course, but he can't shake the guilt when he feels the only reason his mom works so hard is because of him. They've moved twice already and there's no way they're moving again, so if the landlord gives them trouble he'll just give them hell (let's just hope it won't come to that.)
Miles learnt how to treat his own injuries from Rio. She taught him basic first aid at the very least, and on a couple of occasions he's tried to learn things himself with the clunky old first aid kit at home. Rio never asks why the stitch on one of their pillows is done with dental floss, and looks strangely like that of a suture (a very bad one at that.)
His Spanish also improved a lot too. After his dad's passing, he met a lot of relatives from his mom's side that he doesn't remember ever seeing before, but it encourages him to learn how to speak better. Long gone are the days of silently observing family drama over the phone — he has to keep up now, and he'll defend his mom cada día de la semana (even if she's somewhat embarrassed by it.) Essentially he's at that level of fluency where he can be rude without being rude 😭 (just saying some of the things his relatives say are NOT helpful.)
With all of this going on in his life, it's no surprise that sleep doesn't come easy. Or maybe it is, considering how much he works his body. Either way, he's left staring at the ceiling or curled up on his side most nights, the untouched toys and collectibles in his room to keep him company. Miles used to sleep at 8pm on the dot and wake up at 6; that was when things were good, and he didn't have his whole universe on his shoulders. All his bed is now is a place to collapse, and close his eyes until it's light outside. Most days, he's exhausted — bone-tired — but the most he gets is a light, forced, uncomfortable sleep. It's one in which he wakes up more tired than he was the night before, but he presses on, getting exercise in during the morning and trying to make breakfast for his mom because he knows a slice of toast is the most she'd bother to have.
And despite all that's changed since his dad has passed, Miles is still a kid. He has a thousand pictures from the time he went to Comic-con, a sketchbook full of drawings he never finishes, meticulously-organised playlists, college applications — all in the midst of a city that's falling apart at the seams as much as he is.
But he's okay, for now. As much as he can be.
"Keep your head up, son."
It's what his dad would've wanted, at the very least.
@phoenixinthefiles @qiupachups
hey 😊 "where's ain't no love part thre—" (GLASS SHATTERING NOISE) (CAT MRYEOWING) (BABY CRYING) (POLICE SIRENS) (WEE WOO WEE WOO)
forget miles IM being pulled thin ... half of this may or may not be projection... schrödingers headcanons anyone 😞 anyways ive been like busy. so . SOON! (lying in 4K)
reblogs appreciated!!! 😘 FIND MY MASTERLIST HERE and urrrr my 42 x reader headcanons here if you're interested ?
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luvrsbian · 2 years ago
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄
A/N: she's finally here!!! this was initially supposed to be a one shot but has kinda turned into a draft up of a pretty plotless, sweet, fluffy mini series. it follows canon for the most part minus eddies death ofc but because im bad with canon lore and science shit, its not heavily mentioned (some minor canon lore was changed but it's not super important.) this is a fem!reader, no use of y/n, set in 1992, 4k words, and i've kept reader pretty vague for inclusivity minus some background lore. this series is not 18+ (yet) but my page is, so please do not follow if you are a minor. thank you sweet baby mona @enam3l for beta-reading for me (ily)
MASTERLIST ✿ PART TWO
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Eddie Munson liked his life. He liked his friends, even if a lot of them have now dispersed across the continental United States for school, jobs, general life (minus Robin who has somehow managed to make her way to Australia doing God knows what.) He liked his home, a house on the edge of town – slightly bigger than the old trailer – which he still shared with his uncle. He liked his style and hobbies and taste in music and movies that haven’t really changed much in the last 5 years since his final senior year. 
He really liked his job. 
Which felt odd for him to admit to himself.  It wasn’t anything like what he thought he would be doing. A younger Eddie Munson would imagine himself traveling city to city, adored by fans, living creatively and free spirited.  
But a middle school janitorial gig kept him young. One could argue 26 wasn't even that old, however, compared to his friends (who he'd already been older than) with their careers, relationships and growing families, he felt like a lonely old man. So, yeah, the awkward, funny, and extremely honest pre-teens made him feel young.  
Initially he thought the job would be lonely. It’s a small town with even smaller schools. Besides him, there was only one other night janitor that he alternated weekend cleans with and only really ran into during day-to-night shift changes. Ron was nice enough, older than Wayne, with a far higher patience for children. Unsurprisingly, behaviours from high school died hard and the teachers and administrative staff all kept to their own little cliques. Resulting in Eddie keeping to himself, rarely speaking outside of his custodian duties or the occasional faculty meeting. 
He didn’t even think he’d interact with the students aside from cleaning the odd vomit or getting stuck balls out of the gymnasium rafters. He unintentionally found himself yet again the outcasted mother goose to a small hoard of pre-teen metal heads when their unofficial leader, Matty Sherman, caught site of the various posters Ed keeps hung up on his office (custodial closet) door. The seventh grader quickly forcing himself under Eddies wings and refusing to budge. Matty was a good kid. Reminded Eddie a lot of himself at that age. He was loud, abrasive, and way too confident for such a gangly frame in ill-fitting clothes. Matty had hair though which 13-year-old Eddie couldn’t relate to. 
There was also Ms. Virginia Wagner. The eccentric, nurse who has been working at Hawkins Middle since Eddie was attending. Maybe even before that, he wasn’t quite sure and whenever he asked anything close to finding out her age, she quickly shut him down. She was sweet. She was funny. She was also a mean old hag sometimes, but God did Eddie love that about her. If he was just 20 - or more realistically 40 - years older and wasn’t almost certain she swings the other way, he’d shoot his shot.  
The Summer season was extremely uneventful for Eddie. Due to the kids being out of school, his hours were cut in more than half with only the yearly repairs and deep cleaning needing to be done. He went into work about 3 days a week, spending the extra free time to do some manual labour gigs here and there around town. When he wasn’t working, he was hidden away at home watching movies, listening to music, trying to plan out ongoing and future campaigns for Hellfire meetings that have begun to be fewer and far between now that everyone has dispersed. On some rare occasions when he didn’t feel like a complete shell of a person and was able to leave the house to socialize outside of life obligations, he met up with the few friends that remained in the Hawkins area (which at this point in time was really only Steve Harrington and Gareth Emerson.) 
It was now the Monday of the week before students would return back to these fluorescent lit halls. That meant all other faculty were now gracing the school to prepare for the year ahead. Organizing and prepping and finalizing lesson plans and class rosters.  
Eddie had a slight pep in his step as he walked through the halls, scuffed up sneakers squeaking on the shiny, extra polished tiles. He whistled a silent tune that clashed with the jingles of his keys that he swung around his middle finger. Getting to the janitors closet to put on his navy coverall and put his hair into a low bun. He zips up the stiff material, covering the self-altered muscle tank top that had the logo for some local band down in Indianapolis he saw a few years back before things went to shit. A cracked and stained mirror hanging up over his work sink being used to make sure his hair looked casually messy in the bun. With a final once over, he hooks his keys to the belt loop of his coveralls and preps for the day's work. A glance at his wristwatch, the one that has somehow survived hell and back just like him, reads 7:58. Just 4 hours and 2 minutes until lunch.  
He couldn’t wait. 
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Eddie used those 4 hours and 2 minutes to check each stall in all bathrooms were fully stocked with toilet paper and the likes, clean the actual toilets themselves, and make sure the water was running properly in every sink. Once that was taken care of, he began on his biggest task of the week of dragging desks and chairs out of the back storage building to be put into classrooms. Sheryl from the administrative team having left the small packet of papers indicating how many seats each room would need for the coming year.  
He could move the chairs in stacks at a time but could only really stack two - maybe three if he was careful - desks on his hand truck before it became a safety problem. Once moved into the main building, he had to wipe them down, tighten any loose screws that could make them wobble, and make sure they were still in usable condition. Eddie had completed almost 3 of the 32 classrooms before lunch finally rolled around.  
He grabbed his lunch sack from the custodial closet and whistled on his merry way to the nurse's office. He’s been eating lunch with Virginia for as long as he can remember. Of course, there was those 5 years of High School and then the year of recovery following the events of his second senior year, and the summer breaks of course, but besides all those he’s been eating with her for a good 7 years.  
This ritual beginning in his 6th grade, the first year he moved in with Wayne, all sad eyed and past aside due to events outside of his control. Kids he had grown up with suddenly not wanting anything to do with him. He wouldn’t really make any friends again until 7th grade, and his first band of misfits was created, Corroded Coffin. 6th Grade was the worst year of his life until 1986 and now it’s about tied.  
Sadly, in middle school who you ate a meal with or gave the time of day too was so integral into maintaining the hierarchal balance of the ecosystem. It was bullshit. With everything that happened that lead to his father going to jail and him burdening his uncle, the kids of Hawkins middle school decided Eddie wasn’t worth risking their own reputations. He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened, his brain kicking the memory out at some point to make room for more important stuff like D&D lore. But he does remember he went from eating lunch in the bathroom to eating it in Nurse Wagner’s office.  
Even after being integrated back into the Middle school social circle, he couldn’t just leave her to eat lunch by herself. She needed him with his alternative music education and retelling of the fantasy books he’d been reading lately and his strong headedness that could keep up with her dry and sarcastic quips many interpreted as rudeness. Although Eddie would still refuse to admit it, in actuality he probably needed her more than she needed him. 
He doesn’t knock, just moseys his tall frame into the nurse's office, wide dimpled smile on his lips as he hears rummaging coming from the actual office area that was blocked off by a wall. He looks at the two plastic-y beds covered in paper sheets, inhaling that antiseptic smell that can only seem to be found in medical settings. No fluorescent lights were on, only natural light being let it from the two big windows.  
There are curtains on them now which surprises him. Floral pinks and yellows with lace on the edge that really fit the grandma vibes Virginia has but refused to acknowledge. The windows all have blinds, but curtains were deemed a non-necessary commodity by the school board budgeting team, meaning if you wanted curtains, you’re gonna have to fork money out of pocket for them. Eddie had asked Virginia about it once, commenting about how it would help spruce up the place. Make it look a little less sterile. She told him to go to hell, that she’s a nurse not rich. Any out-of-pocket money she spent on work only going towards things that actually matter, like the allergen friendly laundry detergent and the nicer, name brand candy for the candy bowl. 
Putting his lunch on the side table of the first bed, he lays down in a relaxed position. Hands behind his head, legs crossed, eyes closed, he lets out a relaxed sigh. 
“Virginia, dear, I really love what you’ve done with the place,” he calls out to her, hearing the close of the filing cabinet and footsteps soon following, “feels all homey now, dontcha think.” 
The footsteps stop. 
“I'm glad you like them. You feelin’ comfy there?” 
That was most definitely not Virginia Wagners voice. 
Eddie jolts up, eyes wide and cheeks red. He’s not one to get embarrassed easily but since recent events he’s been a bit more reserved in how comfortable he gets around strangers. And you were most definitely a stranger. A pretty stranger. A very pretty stranger in a teddy bear patterned scrub top and an oversized cardigan with embroidered sunflowers. You’re a disorienting mess of patterns and colors but you’re also, like, really pretty and Eddie isn’t sure how to go about this. 
“You’re not Virginia,” is all he can get his voice to come out with. 
“I’m not Virginia.” You give a chuckle. A positive response, Eddie thinks. 
“Where’s Virginia?” 
Eddie is now standing away from the bed and closer to the door, ready to run from the situation if needed (something he’s learned to embrace in the last few years.) You give him a friendly smile, hands in your cardigan pockets, the sleeves bunched up. You look cozy.  
“Florida. She’ll be in the Caribbean by the end of the month,” you supply. He can tell your fingers are fidgeting in your pockets. His hands are fidgeting at his waist, pinching at the material of his coveralls.  
“Why?” 
You shrug your shoulders, “Retirement.” 
“Oh,” Eddie sighs, eyes breaking contact with yours for the first time since standing, shifting to look at your white - almost pristine - sneakers on the tile floor her spent all summer mopping and waxing and removing scuff marks from. “That sucks.” 
You snort. Teeth biting your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him further during this awkwardly endearing meeting. Your own eyes looking him over now that he isn’t completely focused on you. He’s cute. His cheeks stained your favourite shade of pink once he realized you weren’t the now retired nurse he had been so fond of. Hands covered in jewlery. His inability to stay still so natural it makes you think he doesn’t even realize he’s been shifting his body weight back and forth from his toes to his heels this whole time. Tall, lean, maybe with some extra fluff hidden under the baggy attire. He’s got some shadow of hair on his cheeks. And if you weren’t a civil person and he wasn’t a stranger, you’d be begging to kiss at the column of his throat. 
Your gaze moves to look around the waiting part of the office to avoid thinking even more things about this guy. A brown paper bag chicken scratched with the words ‘ED LUNCH’ catches your eye. Before you have a chance to speak yourself, he starts his interrogation again. 
“Who are you?” 
Your attention cuts back to him quickly. With a smile that shows all your teeth and a hand leaving your pocket, held out for him to shake, you give your full name. 
He takes it with his own reserved smile. His hands and rings are warm, but they still tingle your skin from the unfamiliarity of the metal. You enjoy it you think. Before he can introduce himself, you beat him to the punch. 
“You must be Edward, right?” 
He grimaces, “Just Eddie,” your handshake falls. His hand back to his hip and your hand back into your pocket, “Just Eddie is fine. More than fine, actually. Preferred, really.” 
Another chuckle from you. Eddie knows he’s funny when he wants to be but if it’s this easy to make you laugh, he doesn’t ever want to stop. 
“Well, just Eddie,” you smirk at his eye roll, “you can join me for lunch if you’d like. I feel like my presence may have ruined your initial plans,” you let out a huff of a laugh and gesture to the lunch sack by the window. He grimaces again at your wording and shakes his head. 
“It didn’t ruin any plans just was shocking ‘sall,” his hand moves from his hip to rub at his slightly scruffy chin, pretty brown eyes back on yours, “but um, yeah. Yes, I’d love- like to join you for lunch.” 
You smile. He smiles back. 
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Eddie has sat in this chair, in this office, and eaten his lunch for years. Today it feels awkward and unfamiliar.  
It might have something to do with you sitting where Virginia used to sit. Same chair, same desk, same office, but completely different. Virginia didn’t decorate her space, leaving it functional and impersonal, if people wanted to know about her life they could ask her. She wasn’t going to flaunt it.  
You were very different. An orange, gaudy looking vase filled with fake flowers. A matching candy bowl with various sugary, little treats. A picture frame of you and what he could only assume was your family based on the similar features shared between each person. A decorated Coke can with the top cut off and trimmed with glued on lace and covered in holographic stickers of vibrant cartoon animals, sparse enough to still see the iconic red drink logo, was now holding an assortment of colorful gel pens.  
Even the chair wasn’t safe from your interior decorating, a purple knitted blanket folded over the top of the rolling seat. The seat itself now adorning a red, white, and black cushion of an ugly faced bulldog with a spiked color and cap with the letter G, the words ‘GEORGIA BULLDOGS’ splayed above him. A sports team he assumed.  
The conversation hadn’t started back up since the introduction in the sick room. Both of you taking your respective seats in the office area, opening your lunch bags and digging in.  
Eddie being a creature of habit brought his usual bag of pretzels, a can of Pepsi, and a sandwich made of whatever he could find in the kitchen. Today it was two slices of whole wheat, mayo, lettuce, the last piece of deli ham, and shredded cheese.  
Your own lunch seemed much more put together. For starters, you had an actual lunchbox, a bulky and vibrant plastic thing with Snoopy sleeping on his dog house on the front. Inside, there was your own ziploc bag of green grapes, a can of Coke, and a sandwich cut into triangles. White bread, crunchy peanut butter, and grape jelly. A Little Debbies Swiss Rolls pack sitting on the corner of your desk for dessert. 
He’s mid chew on the final bite of his sandwich, half his Pepsi left, his pretzels being the first thing devoured, when you speak up. Your own sandwich having on triangle section left, grapes gone, and Coke untouched. 
“Have you always lived in Hawkins?” 
You’re wiping your mouth with a folded paper towel, curious eyes focused on him. You’re very good at that, he’s realized. Eye contact. Focusing on your center of attention. Eddie has never been good at it, having to remind himself to look at the person talking to him. It’s polite, Wayne would say, shows people you’re listening and interested in what they have to say. Eddie gets so worked up in remembering to seem focused, he loses it and doesn’t hear what’s being said. He hasn’t had that problem with you so far. He thinks he could look at and listen to you all day if you let him. 
“Born and bred,” he swallowed his bite and shrugs his shoulders, rubbing his hands together to get the crumbs off, “you’re not though, are you. Feel like I’d remember you,” he raises an eyebrow. Feeling a little more confident in himself, especially with the obvious signs of you not being a local, and gives a playful smirk. 
“You got me,” you hold your hands up in mock surrender, moving your arms back to rest your elbows on the edge of the desk, “I’m from Georgia.” 
Eddie nods, the seat cushion making sense now. It’s your home team for… sports. A sport. Probably football. Eddie mentally pats himself on the back for guessing it was a sports team. Good on him for knowing sports. (Eddie doesn’t know sports.) 
“So,” Eddie lulls, small talk never being his forte. Much more interested in getting into the nitty gritty of conversation when interested in someone but he doesn’t know you yet. He needs to find something to relate with you on and he can’t do that with tidbits he may know from growing up in town like he could other people his age or older here. “You’re like a southern chick,” it was your turn to grimace.  
“You’re really bad at this,” you snort and shake your head, finishing up the last of your own sandwich. Tidying up your desk, throwing away the ziploc bag and sandwich wrapping and paper towels. Opening the coke can and moving the swiss rolls pack to in front of you, looking back to Eddie. With a tilt of your head and saccharine grin you ask, “Splitsies?” 
He nods at the opportunity to get a sweet little treat before addressing your initial comment, “Small talk requires talking and I just don’t really do that anymore with people who don’t already know me or just have a preconceived idea of who I am,” he shrugs his shoulders again, voice softer, slight regret in being too real. Eyes watching your fingers open the package, folding another paper towel (which he has now realized are coming from a roll kept in the lowest drawer of your desk), and setting one of the processed roll cakes on the indented paper before placing it in front of Eddie’s seated and slouched body. “Thank you,” He looks back up to you and you’re already looking at him. 
“Virginia told me a lot about you,” you smirk, lifting your own cake to take a bite. Your eyes not leaving his except for split a second to give an appreciative glance and hum to the cream filled ‘pastry.’  
“We’ve been corresponding for months,” you snicker at your own use of the word, making you feel like some sort of 18th century countess or captain, rather than a young nurse taking over the position of an older nurse.  
He looks panicked at this reveal. Which is cute considering he had a bit of white cream on his upper lip. Although he looked so pretty when his brow furrowed, it was clear he was frightened so you were quick to reassure him. 
“All good things, of course. I think she’s just worried about you. It’s cute, really, just really cute.” Another kind smile on your lips and your hand holding out the paper towel - his now eaten roll was sat on - as hint for him to clean his mouth off. 
Eddie knew Virgina wasn’t one to gossip but the prospect of a rare new person in town he’s actually interested in, being privy to all his shit-uations without him telling them himself, scared him. But Virginia did love to meddle and that may be worse. She was a big supporter of Eddie needing friends his own age.  
Letting out a sigh of relief that his tragic history had yet to be exposed, Eddie returned your smile with his own half one. You reach into your desk again, pulling out a letter instead of paper towels this time. ‘Edward’ scrawled in a familiar, loopy handwriting with blue ink on the white envelope caught his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion and intrigue.  
You hold it out for him to take like it was something precious, “This is for you.” From Virginia, is unspoken but recognized between the both of you. Who else would it have been from. Eddie flushing as he realized, Virginia never told him about you. Virginia never even told Eddie she’d be leaving. They didn’t speak much, or really at all, during the summer unless they happened to run into each other outside of these brick walls.  
Callused finger pads grazed your palm when he took the letter from you, he kept his eyes focused on examining the letter. A sad smile on his lips appreciating the loops of the E and W and curves of the D’s. Realistically he knew Virginia probably wasn’t gonna be gone from Hawkins forever, she had roots here. A son. That’s son kid or maybe kids now, he wasn’t sure, hadn’t checked in on Rick since he got out of jail in ‘88. But it still hurt that she was gone, without a word, and was happy enough to talk to her replacement about him but not to him about her. You. 
“I’m gonna read this later,” he mumbles and puts the offending but appreciated letter in his deep pocket. A quick glance at his watch read it’s been about an hour since making his way into the nurses office, lunch was over. He threw his trash out in the bin by your desk and gave you a friendly smile, standing from the seat in front of your desk. 
“Maybe we could do this again sometime,” eyes shifting around the office again, not really taking things in, just needing to not get trapped back into your gaze. “Ya know, with my lunches free now and everything,” he humorlessly chuckles. 
“Eddie,” you spoke softer than you had before, a more sympathetic smile on your lips, “I’d really like that.” 
He looks at you now. You have really shiny eyes. What a weird observation, Eddie thinks, but it’s true. With a quick wave of his hand before retreating them back into his pocket, fingers playing with the paper edges of Virginias letter. He begins his trek out the door.  
“Hey, next time though,” he stumbles in a spin to walk backwards while speaking, “We’ll speak more about you than about me. Feel’s like you know too much about me,” he huffs with a smug smile before spinning back to look forward. “See ya, Peach.” 
Your sweet laughter follows him out into the hall. You call out, “See ya, Eddie,” to his retreating back, watching the door long after he’s left.  
“Peach,” you snort and shake your head, teeth tugging on your bottom lip to stop from smiling too wide. 
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ballimeracy · 1 year ago
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Halloween Fright Night!
Ghost Face! Toji x Chubby! Reader 1.8k words! Content Warning: Cunillingus, self depricating thoughts (implied),use of the terms 'mama', 'baby doll', and 'baby girl'
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You didn’t know how you ended up here in front of your mirror wearing one of the sluttiest outfits you've ever owned. At least you didn’t buy it yourself with your hard earned money. Instead, your boyfriend Toji bought it for you to go to a halloween party with him. The outfit wasn’t anything elaborate, just your run-of-the-mill sexy nurse outfits with an incredibly short skirt, low cut top, stockings, and red heels. You had to admit, you thought you looked pretty damn good. The softness of pudge on your thighs and stomach filled out the skirt well, showing the swell of your ass underneath the damn near see through white fabric. You even had on some makeup, bright red lipstick, eyeliner, the whole works. In modern terms, your face was beat to perfection. After hearing a chime from your phone from your nightstand you walk over and inspect the screen, a big grin spreading on your face when you see it’s from Toji.
‘Hey, baby girl. Running behind. Caught up with work. Go on without me, I'll catch up.’ 
The smile that had graced your face instantly fell, a look of nervous apprehension now taking its place. You always felt more confident with your hulking form of a man by your side, just his mere presence being able to quell any anxieties and self doubt bubbling in your gut. He was just expecting you to go without him? Alone? It’s not like you didn't know the people there, Toji’s close friend Shiu was there, along with plenty of acquaintances. There was really no reason for you to be so nervous. Besides, as the movie Mean Girls puts it “Halloween is the one night a year when girls can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” So, what was the harm? 
You arrive fashionably late at Shiu’s residence. You could already hear the almost deafening music, the lights dimmed inside. Slowly you shuffle in, squinting your eyes to adjust to the dark. Off the bat you spotted a few people you recognized: Satoru dressed as a vampire, Suguru as a nurse (he had lost a bet to Satoru), and Shoko as a zombie. Everyone was having a good time, a few people you couldn’t quite recall the names of but knew through Toji came up to say hi politely before dispersing into the crowd once more. You could already feel anxiety bubbling deep inside you, suddenly feeling as though your skirt kept riding up and showing off too much skin. 
Thankfully before these thoughts could deepen into a full blown anxiety attack, Shiu walked up with a faint smile and a cigarette between his lips. “Hey, y/n. Where’s Toji at?” Shiu titled his head to the side. You couldn't see Shiu’s eyes, shaded by dark sunglasses. He was also wearing a very dapper suit, dressed up as a character from Men in Black. “He said he got hung up at work-” You state, rubbing the back of your neck. “He will be here soon, though.” Shiu let out a little hum, moving the cigarette from his lips to his fingers. “Ah, well hopefully it won’t take him too long. Booze is in the kitchen. Help yourself.” With another small smile, Shiu disappeared as quickly as he came and left you alone lingering by the door. 
It had only been an hour, and yet you felt like you had been there for an eternity. The music had your head throbbing along with the alcohol you downed to try and ease your anxieties. It didn’t help at all.You were standing in the bathroom, trying to find solace in the tiny space. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest, breaths coming out in short little puffs. You felt vulnerable, all the thoughts about how people were staring at you with judgemental eyes. You could only imagine that you looked horrible, with the chub on your body causing the skimpy outfit to hug your form. It made you feel like you were going to puke, holding onto the rim of the sink to calm down. 
When eventually you felt at least normal enough to step out, you were utterly surprised to almost run into a firm chest. Looking up, your eyebrows raised slightly. The man before you was wearing a Ghostface mask, black hoodie, and baggy jeans. “Oh, um…sorry.” You say, quickly shifting out of the way to let the stranger use the bathroom. The stranger didn’t answer, looking at you as you shuffled away back to the living room where the rest of the party was being held. Before you could even get a few feet away, you felt a hand on your wrist which made you flinch. You quickly whip around, seeing the man in a Ghostface mask. “...Excuse me?” You say, anxiety brimming on your expression. A deep chuckle comes from the man, his other hand removing the mask. There was your boyfriend, a small smirk on his face. “Got ya. Scared ya didn’t I mama?” Toji chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of your boyfriend, immediately going in for a hug. Toji frowned slightly, a hand going to pat the top of your head. “Hey..what’s wrong baby girl? I didn’t scare ya that bad, did I?” You shook your head, letting out a little sigh as you rested your head against his chest, cheeks warming as you heard his heartbeat. “Just not feeling well…I’m glad you're here.” Your voice was soft which made Toji sigh softly. “You gettin all down on yourself again?” Toji tilted your chin up to look at him, which you gave a small defeated nod. Toji let out a soft hum, grabbing at your wrist once more. “Hm…y'know, how ‘bout I show you how much I love your body, yeah?” He had a wolfish grin on his face, emerald eyes twinkling slightly as he quickly dragged you back into the bathroom and locked the door. Your entire face felt hot already, nervously shifting in front of Toji as he picked you up like you weighed nothing, sitting you down on the counter. 
“Toji?” You say in a rather hushed voice, cheeks feeling as if they were on fire, biting your lip when Toji began planting wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. A soft little moan escaped you when he bit down on your shoulder, body jolting and shivering when his hands began to slide up your pitiful excuse of a skirt. “Mmm, I dunno why you always actin like you aren't pretty…” Toji mumbled against your neck, his hand honing to your core which made you jump again. Slipping a calloused finger past the band of your underwear, he began to rub quick and tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. As you let out tiny moans, hips jerking down into his hand, Toji chuckled. “I wish you could see how pretty you look to me, mamas.” He breathed against your ear, continuing to rub quick circles on your clit. “Love everythin’ bout ya..these thighs-” Toji used his free hand to squeeze the fat on your thighs. “Your tits-” A firm squeeze on your bra covered tits followed. “Everything.” He pressed kisses all along your jaw, smiling as you continued to squirm and whimper.
You could slowly feel the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten, your moans becoming breathy and high pitched. “Toji…Toji Im gonna cum…God please dont stop..” You whine, hips jerking down to meet his hand.  A whine followed, your expression becoming a pout as Toji pulled his hand away and popped his finger into his mouth to clean it from your slick. “Nu uh, you don’t get to cum yet, sweetheart. I want you to tell me how pretty you are.” Toji dropped to his knees which made your face feel warm, biting your lip as you felt his hot breath against your clothed cunt. “Tell me how pretty you are…” He murmured, groaning slightly as he took a deep breath of your scent, fingers pushing your underwear down and to your ankles. Toji made quick work, shoving his face against your bare pussy as he began to eat you out like this was his final meal. His tongue flicked over your clit, sliding down before plunging inside your cunt causing you to whimper and buck your hips down against his face. Toji didn’t break eye contact, eyes half lidded as he began to suck harshly against the bundle of nerves. 
A brief look of irritation flashed over his face as he looked up at you and your blissed out expression. Delivering a quick nip to the inside of your inner thigh, causing you to jump, Toji raised his eyebrows before going back to work, expecting you to follow orders. Your moans continued to be breathy, hips jerking and letting out soft moans against the back of your hand. “I-im really pretty…” You murmur, legs twitching. Toji seemed pleased at your words, continuing to eat you out like it was his last day on earth. “N-no one is as pretty as me…Im s-so gorgeous..” You continue to murmur and pant against the back of your hand, determined to not get too loud to alert anyone. The coil in your stomach began to tighten once again as you whimpered and squirmed against his face. “I'm soft, sexy, v-very sexy..” You shudder, letting out a soft groan as Toji plunged two fingers into your tight cunt. Toji quickly rubbed up against your g-spot, nearly making you cry out from pleasure. 
He seemed to be rather happy with your affirmations to yourself, quickly sucking against your clit and pumping his fingers against your g-spot as quickly as he could. With the constant attention, you were quick to spasm around his fingers with a high whine. Your legs trembled as you came all over Toji’s face, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Toji helped you ride out your high. When you came back down from your orgasm, your breathing was labored as you looked down at him with a little lazy smile. Toji chuckled, cleaning up his face from your arousal and cum. “Mmm, my pretty mama. Always so gorgeous..” Toji helped put back on your underwear and helped you off the counter, keeping an arm around you since your legs were a bit shaky.
 “There we go…Feel better baby girl?” Toji smiled at you, to which you gave a sheepish smile and nodded. “Mhm…thank you baby..” You lean into him, giggling a bit as Toji begins to pepper kisses all over your face. “Cmon, lets go enjoy the rest of the party before it’s over, baby doll..” With that, Toji kept a hand on the small of your back, leading you back out to the festivities.
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taglist! @crlyhairedwxtch @thesimpybitch
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lavenderxskys · 2 years ago
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i dont believe in love at first sight... but god-damn - part one
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pairing: buck barnes x reader
summary: its not normal for bucky to instantly feel something for a women. but you're just too good to ignore...
includes: strangers to lovers, inferred female reader (pronouns, descriptions, etc), implied smut?, alcohol intoxication, drinking, steve rogers ofc, story doesnt really follow any movie plots so no spoliers!, all characters are of drinking age, pet names?: sweetheart, doll
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the night has barely even started and you're already halfway drunk, laughing over the loud music with your friend at the bar. your best friend, steve, orders another round and turns to you.
"are we just gonna sit here all night or are you finally gonna find someone to go home with?" steve cocks his head playfully and smiles, his obvious playful demeanor poking right through.
you roll your eyes, taking a sip of your drink, "psh. you really think anyone here wants me? plus we're in the bad part of town, i'd probably get murdered."
"not necessarily, i know plenty of good people that go here often. and you know, actually, i think today's the day that my friend bucky comes and grabs a couple drinks."
you smile, "ahh the infamous bucky, i would love to meet him, he's all you used to talk about after all."
steve agrees with you that if bucky shows up he'll introduce you, so you lay back on the drinks just in case you like the guy.
an hour or so pass with you a steve laughing about god knows what and getting excited when one of you twos favorite songs play. you almost forget you might be meeting bucky when steves face lights up towards the door and waves.
"hey bucky! over here!" steve motions for bucky to join the two of you.
you turn around and your heart pounds, the man walking over is gorgeous, even the way he walks over to the two of you sends heat to your face.
buckys not so quick to notice you, more focussed on asking his friend why he's here. but when he finally notices you, his sentence falters. his eyes travel to all parts of you, your hair framing your face perfectly, and the way your outfit showed off the features of your body had him almost drooling. he looks away quickly though, finishing his sentence.
steve smiles and nudges you with his shoulder, "y/n and i like to go here sometimes after work, gets the nerves to settle ya' know?"
bucky nods, turning his head to make eye contact with you, "y/n, huh? never heard of her, are you two..."
steve nervously laughs, "no,no. just friends. she is looking, though."
you roll your eyes, embarrassed. meanwhile, bucky is looking you over again, his own mind confused on why he's feeling this way.
steve exchanges a glance between the two of you, sipping his drink, "buttt i do know that buck is very 'hard to get' in that area so sorry y/n, he's probably not interested."
you gasp and shoot him a look, "i never said anything about being into him," you glance at bucky, "no offense."
"none taken sweetheart." your heart basically stops at the nickname, but you power through and take a sip of your drink while steve laughs.
"okay okay, sorry. how about we order some more drinks? gotta catch you up to speed james." steve smiles and orders more drinks for the three of you.
the drinks continue, so many rounds that you stopped counting after steve both you and bucky to the dance floor. the three of you danced pitifully, laughing whenever a new song played and the style of dance was altered.
after about twenty minutes of this, you left steve and bucky and sat down at a nearby booth, laying your head agasint the table, this hangover was gonna suck.
"tired already?" buckys deep voice sent shivers down your spine.
you lifted your head and groaned, "don't pay me any mind, i'm sure steve needs a dance partner." i look over to steve who's still going at it for whatever reason.
bucky scoffs a little, "you know hes not even drunk right? the sss makes it so he can't."
"of course i know, i think he has the placebo effect though, whatever makes him happy i guess." you smile, glad at least someone can have fun without the repercussions the next morning.
there's a moment of silence between the two of you. bucky looks down at you, wearing a subtle smirk that you can't decipher if it's a drunken one or something more than that.
bucky knows he feels something for you, but he's trying so hard to fight it.
james buchanan barnes does not believe in love at first sight.
but there you were, you're unmistakably stunning, every thing about you make bucky want more. all he knew was your name, and he still wanted you.
he clears his throat, using it as a way to clear his thoughts, "so you and steve, you guys aren't a thing? that's a surprise actually, the way he looks at you and all." there's a slight hint of jealously in his voice, even though he has no reason to be jealous.
you raise your eyebrow, baffled that someone would even think that, there's no way there's anything between the two of you, "we definitely are not a thing, steve's like my brother."
bucky nods and moves to sit down across from you, the intoxication beginning to mess with his head.
you giggle, "you and steve aren't a thing either?" you smile playfully.
"haha. you're funny." bucky says sarcastically, "no, we just go way back." he returns your smile, making your heart speed up.
you both can hear steve pleading the two of you to come back and dance. bucky makes eye contact with you then bursts out laughing, "i guess we should go and dance with him." he says between chuckles while he gets up and walks back to the dance floor. you sigh and follow him, a headache starting to form in your temples.
for whatever reason, captian america himself has amazing dance skills when it comes down to it. you and bucky cheer him on, joining in with him every so often. but it comes to the points where you're drunkenly swaying to the music, right against buckys front side.
you don't essentially realize how close you two are until you turn around and you're inches from his face.
you both pause for a beat, your breaths fanning out onto each others faces. bucky face is hot, whatever you did with your hips has his pants growing tighter by the second. but he holds himself together and hovers his hands above your waist.
"may i?"
you pause, but then nod, figuring it was harmless. he places his hands on your waist, surprisingly gentle, and sways to the music with you.
steve laughs, "jeez that didn't take long, thank god." he winks and walks over to a group of girls that has just walked in.
before you know it, you and bucky are stumbling out of the bar, leaving steve behind. your lips are crashing together as the both of you try to make it to buckys car.
you're desperate at this point, the alchol making you want to commit all types of unholy. you hold on the the collar of his shirt, kissing him deeply.
"now hold on doll, this is a public parking lot, let's go somewhere more private." you reach the car and bucky unlocks it, opening the car door for you.
you slide in and he closes the door, walking over the the other side and getting in.
bucky starts the car and starts to drive off, not worried about his drunken state. his right hand leaves the steering wheel and finds your thigh.
inching higher. and higher.
at this point you've lost your breath, biting your lip as your senses light up, little fireworks going off in your body.
finally, bucky pulls off onto a back road and stops the car, his hands moving further up onto your waist, pulling you over to his side and pulling you into another deep kiss.
his hands find your thighs again and your heart pounds, grinding down on his lap.
bucky chuckles, "needy are we? let me help you out then, sweetheart."
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a/n: there is gonna be a part twooo so stay tuned for that
im not very good at writing the slow shit so i apologize if this is really boring but i think i'll improve in the next part because it is my area of expertise...
also dont drink and drive folks
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gayciate · 26 days ago
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🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!
I have to post some Encanto Monster AU Headcanon jumpscare right now!!!!! Not everyone, but a few of them!
Isabela - Werewolf (Or, Werejaguar rather) + OK OK OK Hear me out on this one, see my vision????? Most of the time, she looks largely normal with "cute" features that many find appealing like the little kitty ears, fangs, and tail + BUT were-jaguar form is absolutely shit your pants terrifying horrific, something she was made to feel ashamed of for its wildness and unattractiveness + Spends pre-movie full moons fully barricaded in her locked room, tangled up in her own vines to keep herself contained - everything she bottles up comes out and is entirely out of control, her wild side is trying sososo hard to get out and she's literally, physically restraining it + Always ends up with an absolutely shredded room the night after the moon, snaps at anyone who ever mentions it or attempts to help her out + Post-movie after she comes to accept every part of herself and grow into her own, she starts to gain control over the beast form and spend more time in it willingly, no longer ashamed of looking "ugly" or acting as anything less than perfect
Luisa - Gargoyle + A powerful stone guardian that guards the family home restlessly + She doesn't actually need to sleep, but does go into a dormant "statue" state when exposed to direct sunlight. + Incredibly physically sturdy but not immune to damage. She can crack and break, though her pieces can be put back in place if they fall + It is debatable if she can feel pain in the same way more flesh-based beings can. She does not need to eat or breathe and cannot drown + While she has wings, she is too heavy to properly fly and uses them more to shield others from danger or glide short distances
Mirabel - Satyr + A real silly billy, she's got the fuzzy legs of a goat and little tiny horns under her hair + She's very musically inclined and can play several different instruments. She's creative, clever, and loves to frolic in the sun! + Her charisma stat is absolutely off the charts, others often find it very easy to relax around her as her monster species is not particularly threatening or associated with danger + Often faces underestimation and struggles with not being taken seriously. Her lack of scariness coupled with her inhuman nature can be a cause of direct bullying that more threatening monsters may not have to deal with.
Dolores - Vampire + Oppoisite Isabela, she's a little withdrawn and shy, probably has big ole' sensitive bat ears with perfect pitch detection + Veeeery sensitive to light and sound, she enjoys the quiet of night and often sleeps during the day + She can turn into a little bat and flutter around, but sometimes forgets she's easy to miss like that and jumpscares people who thought they were alone in a room + She's capable of sitting in complete silence for extended periods of time and is extremely patient. Her night-vision is impeccable. + Rumors have spread that she can read minds and has some psychic abilities, but these are entirely unfounded. She's just perceptive and very nosey.
Camilo - Changeling + A funky fey dude, taken in as a baby by Pepa and Félix when he was found abandoned in the wood + He's strongly attuned to magic in the environment and specializes in illusionist tricks + He has pointy ears, sharp teeth, and unnatural eyes that reflect light in the dark but shifts to a more human look most of the time to blend in with others + Quietly a little insecure about what he really is when he looks in the mirror without a disguise but tries not to dwell on it for too long
Antonio - Chimera + A strange little mix of creatures, he's got the upper half of a human with the lower half of a jaguar. He's also got the wings of an Andean condor, ears of a tapir, and an anaconda's tail! + The little dude climbs, flies, and swims - he's an ATV with endless energy who loves to shove himself into tight spaces to explore + Outgoing and a bit wild, he easily befriends other animals but sometimes finds people wary of him. He is very careful with his claws and fangs, but parents sometimes worry that he'll play too rough and hurt their kids. This makes him very sad! + Incredibly intelligent and inquisitive, he is active for long periods of time before collapsing into a nap and restarting the cycle
Bonus Augustín & Julieta - Headless horseman and Parrot Harpy I think Augustín would be like the headless horseman and constantly (literally) lose his head and Julieta would be a parrot harpy with colorful, blue plumage - incredibly intelligent and caring for her kids
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fandomfics · 3 months ago
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Memories Are All We Have
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Pairing: Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel x fem reader
Masterlist
Description: you've lost your memory, but you run into someone you have an undeniable pull to, you just know that you can trust them. Can they help you get your memory back?
Word count: 6.4k
⚠️Warnings⚠️
Au, Canon typical violence, death, mentions of suicide, suicide attempt, memory loss, abandonment, fluff, angst, dialog from some tertiary characters pulled from and/or heavily inspired by quotes from comics and movies.
A/N: the end got a lot heavier than I originally intended, but it just felt right. It is up for interpretation though.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The dark cloudless sky above you shines bright with a billion tiny points of light surrounding a full moon. A beautiful sight cut by the grittiness of the sandy dirt that seeps into the crevasses of your tactical suit, easing you into an overstimulating discomfort that nearly brings you to the brink of a mental breakdown. You lay in the remains of a spacecraft with no recollection of how you came to be amidst the wreckage.
You strain to remember yourself, but nothing appears. You desperately search for something, anything, to tell you the simplest information about yourself but nothing manifests other than a dull ache behind your eyes.
Something bright like a ball of fire appears above you in the sky, growing larger as the seconds pass, you realize it's coming straight towards you. You scramble to your feet and break into a run, looking behind you to see if you're at a safe distance you realize the object has changed course and is still on its way to you. In your haste your foot makes contact with a small boulder and you careen forward flat on your face.
When you turn onto your back you see a figure standing over you. She looks familiar, but the only thing you know is that you can trust her. A feeling deep in your gut says that you know this woman, it's all you have to go on as she stalks forward with a searing anger plastered to her face.
"Please...help me?" You say unmoving.
She briefly hesitates and confusion flashes in her eyes momentarily before she speaks. "Don't play games with me."
She reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you to your feet before restraining both your hands behind you.
"I don't know what youre talking about. I- I cant remember anything. Do you know me?"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Shuri, I don't know. Seems a little convenient." Carol Danvers is not convinced that your memories are completely wiped out.
"My scans all show that she's telling the truth. Her memories have disappeared from her brain entirely and so have any powers she had. It's like they never existed in the first place."
"The ship she crashed came from the collector, I'm gonna go gather some Intel. Something tells me this could be more dire than a little memory loss."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A seedy bar with seedier patrons bustles with lively music as Carol waits for her contact. She doesn't know how he gets his information, but he's never been wrong before.
"Hey there hot stuff" he sits next to her as she rolls her eyes hard.
"What do you have for me?" She cuts straight to the point.
"What, no foreplay?" He tried to flash a charming smile but she keeps her face stern until he caves. "Uh, anyway... The collector acquired this new device. It's meant to collect memories in criminal trials to be stored and replayed, but the one he got was modified. It permanently collects them from the subject, typically leaving them a little...dead."
"Shit. Thanks." She hands over his payment and immediately leaves the bar, returning to her ship.
She presses a few buttons on a console and the holographic image of Shuri flickers to life. "What did you find Carol?"
"Its worse than we could have imagined."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
You spend days in Shuri's lab as she runs test after test with Carol looking on. Your poked and proded by various instruments and needles until you're on the brink of madness. Neither woman speaks to you much unless it's a requirement of the current test. Instead they speak to each other as if you're not even there.
"The only way for the memories to return is with the device." She concludes.
"You're positive?" The skepticism clear in Carol's eyes.
"Absolutely."
Finally she speaks directly to you, "The plan is simple, the collector wants you back, there's a bounty on your head and I'm going pretend to collect. Once we have access to the building we can use the device and restore your memories before destroying it."
"I don't know how to fight. I'll be useless when we get inside."
Carol rolls her eyes before speaking, "it's a long trip, I'll train you on the way."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The ship is dark and quiet, you're meant to be sleeping, but all you're trying to do is wrack your brain, understand what's happening.
Suddenly there's a blade at your throat. You were so lost in thought you failed to notice Carol creep up on you.
"You're dead." She pulls the knife away from your throat, "how the hell am I supposed to train you? It's like you have no survival instincts whatsoever."
"Well excuse me for having an existential crisis because I know absolutely nothing about myself." You snap.
A frown tugs at your lips as she stalks away in a huff. She is cold, demanding, and ruthless. You know she hates you, but you don't know why. You try to be as nice as possible but it seems to irritate her even more, and she won't tell you anything about yourself, insisting that you'll learn when they get your memories back from the collector.
Day after day for a week your hours are filled with combat training. She doesn't let up no matter how exhausted you are. She punctuates every move to overpower you with a growled "Dead. Again."
Finally you break, "Why do you even care anyway? Huh? You clearly hate me. Why are you even helping me?"
"I don't hate you." You almost believe her. It's clear that it's complicated, not as easy as just hatred. It's deep and complex. Sometimes when she looks at you, her eyes sparkle for a fraction of a second as if she's remembering something good before morphing to disdain.
"Please, just tell me..." You plead, "I know we mean something to each other. I can feel it."
"We don't." She is short with you, but you're determined to get something out of her. Anything.
"Then at least tell me why you're helping me." You say as you follow her closely through the ship.
She sees that you're not going to give up and gives you the smallest bit she can in hopes of satiating your curiosity until you get to your destination. "It's for a friend I made a promise to a long time ago." She softens a bit at the thought. "When she was taken from me by a mad titan, I vowed to avenge her. With your help, your memories, I can."
Training is easier now that you have a sense of purpose and you understand Carol a tiny bit better. Not only are you doing this for yourself, you're doing it for Carol and the friend she lost. It feels like you're finding yourself even if she won't tell you anything.
"Can you tell me more about your friend?" You ask after a long sparring session a few weeks later as you lay across a chair exhausted.
She pauses for a moment, you think she's going to tell you it's none of your business but she starts to speak softly. "She was incredible. Her passion was unmatched. When she found something she thought was worth fighting for, worth believing in, she was all in." You see tears welling in her eyes as she stares down at the weapon she's polishing, "We fought together for so long until one day, she couldn't do it anymore."
She heads to the helm of the ship, signaling the end of the conversation. You mull her words over, try and think of anything you can say to ease her pain, but nothing you come up with feels right.
Her attitude has toward you hasn't changed, but you're hopeful that as soon as your memories are returned to you, you can mend relationship that you must have previously had.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
You run over the plan in your head again and again as you approach the massive celestial severed head known as knowhere. It seems familiar but you gawk at the sight nonetheless, the juxtaposition of the skeletonized head among an interstellar cloud of gas, plasma, and dust amalgamating in a beautiful range of yellows, greens, and blues is breath taking.
The approach seems to take an eternity as nerves settle in your stomach. Carol is dressed in a disguise of sorts and you are cuffed. She places a key in your pocket to use later and you exit the ship. She puts on a show of shoving you forward towards the guard at the entrance of the collection causing you to stumble forward.
"Here for a bounty." She says curtly as she looks up at the towering being before her.
He speaks into a device on his wrist and the door opens, he nods and you make your way inside. The amount of items that surround you is staggering. Relics, Knick knacks, beings... You have a hard time picking just one thing to look at, you could spend years wandering the building and still not see everything.
Carol ignores the surrounding objects and heads straight for the lift. She doesn't speak to you the entire journey up until she notices you shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with your hands.
"Relax."
"I don't know if I'm -" your words are cut short by the doors opening. A man with a shock of white hair and heavy unblinking eyes stands before you. A small smile curls at the corner of his lips when he sees you.
"As agreed upon." He hands Carol payment and she returns to the lift. You stare back at her, mouth agape. This was not the plan. This was not a back up plan. She left you. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you try to subtly search your pocket for the cuff keys, but it's gone.
"You poor thing. You think she was going to follow through with whatever half baked scheme she used to lure you in? Bounty hunters can be awfully manipulative." He circles you, inspecting your body in the way one would with any number of the relics in his collection. "Bet she promised to help you get your life back." He says with a tap of his index finger to your temple.
The tears fall freely. You feel used. Anger builds in your chest until it bursts forth in a primal scream that threatens to rip your vocal cords to shreds as the collector chuckles behind you. He stands close behind you, you feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear.
"I can give those memories back," his voice is low, "work with me and you'll have your memories and anything else you could ever want."
"You took my them from me in the first place, why would you give them back?" You turn in place quickly to face him.
"You left before we could finish the job." He uncuffs you, "you see, you came to me. You wanted some of your memories removed." His hands cup your cheeks, "the machine malfunctioned and you ran away before we could do anything. Even without your powers you are strong." He presses his lips gently to yours and you recoil at his touch.
"You'll remember me soon enough."
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Your eyes are held open by the machine, you feel it probe the pathways of your brain until it reaches its destination.
"We have to sort through some things my dear." You hear the voice of Taneleer Tivan echo in your head as flashes of images play in your mind.
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"That one looks like a cat!" You look to your left and see a young blonde girl beside you where you lay in a field of tall grass. Her arm is outstretched to the sky as she points to a particular cloud.
"I think it looks more like a goose!" You fall into a fit of giggles and the girl beside you joins in.
"Carol! Time for dinner!" She gets up with an overly dramatic sigh.
"Guess I gotta go, I'll see you tomorrow!"
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"Definitely don't need that one." Tivan's voice rings clearly as the memory fades to nothing.
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"What if they don't like me?" The same girl sits next to you on a bench outside your favorite ice cream shop. She's several years older, mid teens maybe, but it's unmistakably her.
"Impossible. They'd have to be stupid to not see how cool you are." She licks around the edges of the waffle cone as the icy treat starts to melt.
"I'm serious." You cast your eyes down.
Carol places a hand on yours and you feel your stomach flip as you look up at her, "They're gonna love you." Her words are soft, "Plus, maybe one day you can be one of the X-Men! Living in a mansion is also an added bonus." She laughs and your heart lightens. You're still nervous, but she's taken the edge off.
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"Useless."
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A flicker of several memories of Charles Xavier teaching you to hone your abilities fill your vision. He had a particular interest in you as you both share the same sorts of power, your time in the x-mansion was often spent with him.
"When an individual acquires great power, the use or misuse of that power is everything. Do not squander it. It is our birthright... Perhaps, our burden. With that power comes responsibility -- and also accountability." You're walking the grounds around the mansion with the professor, enjoying the beautiful weather. "This is only the first step on a long and difficult journey. Throughout your life, there is going to be a lot of people telling you not to be you. Don't let them tear you down. Don't compromise. You have the chance to become part of something much bigger than yourself. Right now you are in control of your destiny. You remember that."
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"I have a good feeling about those"
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"I'm so glad you came!" you greet Carol with a hug. You feel like it's been ages since you saw your best friend. You've only been away a few months since moving into the mansion, but not seeing her every day has been difficult.
You stand on a pier surrounded by carnival games and rides, the sea breeze tousles her hair around her face as the smell of funnel cake and popcorn invades your nostrils. You take her hand and run to the end of the pier where the sea lions lounge on the platforms below. You comment back and forth on the behavior of an especially rambunctious pup whose antics have left you both in a fit of giggles.
You've missed her smile, her laugh, everything about her. You feel the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach as you watch her lean her elbows on the wooden rails and smile down at the mammals below. The realization of what she truly means to you hits you like a freight train.
You are in love with your best friend.
"Promise me something Carol."
"Anything." Her eyes are bright as they look up to you.
"Best friends forever. No matter what. We'll always be there for each other." You hold your pinky out to solidify the pact and she wraps her pinky around yours.
"Always and forever."
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"Guess she lied. Let's get rid of that."
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Years later you are visiting home, It's your 18th birthday and you and Carol have spent the day celebrating with friends and family.
"I know the perfect way to end the day." She says as the last guest leaves. "Come on, let's go."
The pair of you hop in her truck and drive until you've hit a secluded hilltop away from the light pollution. You climb out and she hoists herself into the bed of the truck, extending her hand to help you do the same. As you climb in you step onto a mattress and Carol begins to pull pillows and blankets out of a duffle bag. Once the bed is all cozy you both lay down and look up at the stars.
"Happy birthday." She whispers as her hand grabs yours, intertwining your fingers together.
You feel a tingle of adoration spread through your body, a smile stretches across your lips. "Thank you."
Comfortable silence fills a chunk of time before Carol's voice finally breaks it. "I want you to read my mind."
The shock on your face is apparent, you've always made it a point to ensure that you don't invade the privacy of people's minds unless it's dire or they've given you permission, and Carol has never given you permission before. "Why now?"
"Just look, please." Her eyes show a mixture of fear and anticipation. Your eyes close and gently you probe her mind, she opens up to you and you feel love envelope you in a warm embrace, you feel the squeeze of her hand as her voice rings clear in your head. "I always thought what I had was just a childhood crush, but it never went away. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember."
Your eyes snap open and you look to Carol, before you can register what's happening, tears fall from your eyes. It wasn't just you. She felt it too.
"Please say something." Her brow furrows with worry and you rush to answer her.
"Me too." You reach your free hand to cup her face, turning your body to face her, "Can I kiss you?" She nods and you lean into her. Your lips brush against hers softly before deepening the kiss. This is the happiest moment of your life.
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"Don't need this one."
You feel the machine trying to rip the memory back from your mind and you hold tight. Not this one. You want at least one reminder of the good before you see how things ended.
The machine doesn't seem to alert Tivan of the failure to remove it and he continues forward.
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Flashes of the next six years invade your mind, little moments spent with Carol when the two of you got any chance to. She had moved closer to you, but between your training to become a full member of the X-Men and her joining the air force to become a pilot you weren't able to spend as much time together as you would have liked.
You spoke on the phone nearly every day, a lot of happy meet ups and conversations took place, but the distance and time brought up plenty of arguments as well.
"We need to figure something out Carol. I love you more than anything, but we can't keep this up. We need to figure out where our lives are heading." You say exasperatedly over the phone.
"I know baby, but I need time to figure it out."
"We've had six years to figure it out, and every time I try and talk to you about how we can build a home for ourselves and be together, truly together, rather than this bullshit, you push it off. It's never the right time. Maybe it never will be..." You feel defeated.
"What are you saying?"
"I don't know. I just can't keep waiting like this." You hang up the phone and sob. Did you just break up with her or give her an ultimatum? You aren't sure. Your mind is swimming, you go to bed and toss and turn all night thinking about the implications of the conversation.
The next few days you don't receive your usual call, but you don't worry. She's probably giving you space to cool off before you try and talk through it, maybe this time will be different.
On the fourth day one of your housemates calls you to the phone. Your nervous to hear what Carol has to say. You hope she's finally come up with some sort of plan, a timeline.
"Hello?"
The person on the other end confirms your identity before relaying the worst news of your life. She's gone. Killed in a test flight.
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"She spent years jerking you around and them poof, gone. We can keep this one."
He spends the next several hours sifting through the next ten years of your life. Becoming part of the X-Men and a teacher, dedicating your life to the kids you taught, nearly being killed, your slow decent into depression and fading of your faith in yourself, leaving the school to move back to your hometown only to work as a librarian.
He kept the memories he deemed necessary and removed everything else. You constantly felt like something was being ripped from your mind but you couldn't remember what.
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"I'd like to check this out." The voice is a familiar echo of your past as a book slams on the desk in front of you, you look up to see Carol, your lost love, not having aged at all. There's only one explanation.
"Mystique, I haven't worked with Charles in years, I don't have anything you want." You stare into her eyes coldly.
"What? It's me, really. Carol."
"You aren't very convincing, she's been dead for ten years. You should have picked someone else." You wave your hand in dismissal as you move towards your return cart.
"Look into my mind." She brings herself back into your sight around the desk.
You reach out and find that she's pushing forward her recollection of times you had spent with her in private, loving little moments, then the events of the last ten years, displaying them for you, trying to get you to understand what happened.
"Why did you wait 4 years after you found yourself again?" The pain in your voice as you stumbled through the words was clear.
"I was afraid. I spent days after our last conversation being mad until I realized I wasn't being fair to you. I planned to call you after the test flight... Then when I came back I saw that you were happy at the school and I didn't want to ruin that again."
"What were you going to say? After the flight." Your eyes fill with tears as old wounds reopen and tear at your insides.
"I wasn't sure at first." She whispers, "I was going to tell you to leave me, that I couldn't give you what you wanted or needed, but then when I thought about that as I took off on that flight. The world was a little dimmer, I couldn't see the beauty I usually saw from the cockpit. My dreams of flying didn't matter if I didn't have you."
You both stand still, eyes connected as tears trail down your faces. Her hand reaches for yours and you allow her to take it.
"I'm sorry. For everything. I just wanted you to know that, and maybe give you some sort of closure if you needed it." She drops your hand and turns to leave.
She's almost to the door when you call out to her. "Carol, wait!" Your body acts on its own and you run and jump into her arms, wrapping your legs around her hips as her hands land under your thighs to support you and you smash your lips against her in a frenzied kiss. Your love for Carol never faded, it was always there, this was like settling back into your own bed after a long trip away from home. A comforting warm embrace that felt safe.
You're both left panting when the kiss breaks and you rest your forehead against hers.
"Can I take you out?" Her smile beams wide and you nod.
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"Ah, this is a moment you told me about. When you look back on it you feel like a fool. You definitely don't want this."
It feels wrong, you fight to keep this too, but it slips through your grasp until you have no idea what it was you were trying to save.
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Another flood of memories, years of happiness at Carol's side as you fight against the evils of the universe. You have fights and disagreements just like before, but this time you're together through it all. It's not perfect, but you work through your problems together, until you can't.
In your time among the stars you start to feel jaded, the looming threat of the mad titan Thanos begins to weigh heavily on you. You watch as countless beings fall fighting beside you and Carol in the name of what's right.
"This universe is finite, its resources finite. If life is left unchecked, life will cease to exist. It needs correction. I know what it's like to lose. To feel so desperately that you're right, yet to fail nonetheless. It’s frightening." Thanos stands over the body of another friend he has slain in the name of his purpose as he speaks to you. "Help me end the suffering that plagues this place. Help me restore balance to the universe, a quest truly worthy of your talents."
He extends a hand to you, an open invitation to join his cause. You think back on every poverty stricken community you've encountered, every starving child, every avoidable tragedy, and you take his hand.
Carol finally catches up to you in this moment, you look back and see her face fall in confusion, "I'm sorry, I can't keep fighting the inevitable."
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The remainder of your memories that involve Carol are bitter, full of anguish. She treats you like any other enemy she's ever had, stoking the fire of your hatred for her.
Then something comes loose, a memory that was wiped before you met Tivan. Guilt shreds your insides as the image flashes through your mind. Years spent in service of Thanos to wipe out half the universe, killing in the name of his quest. It was never your intention.
You had just lost another friend in a battle to find Thanos. You lay on your back amidst the rubble and chaos after having defeated the last wave of Chitari, and you made a decision, you were done fighting a loosing battle, you had to do something to end this.
You formulated a plan then and there. The next time you met Thanos face to face you would get close enough to rip him apart with your mind, spread every molecule of his being across space and time until they are consumed by the heat of the stars and lost in black holes. This effort would certainly kill you, but you couldn't fight anymore. Not when people were dying left and right and there was seemingly no end in sight. You didn't tell Carol, you knew she would try and stop you. You didn't tell anyone. This was your burden to bear.
The thing you hadn't anticipated was the mind stone. You were so wrapped in grief and guilt you were short sighted. The second he touched your hand with the gauntlet your memory of the plan was gone. You were fully in his hold, a servant.
The machine begins to shake beneath you. Your eyes go white and you are no longer in control of your body. The straps and instruments that hold you down seem to disobey gravity as they disassemble themselves and float away. Your body rises in the air and a burst of energy flows from you, atomizing the machine beneath you and releasing every memory back to you.
The air crackles with telepathic energy as your mind searches for the collector, but he's no longer there. How long were you out of control? You reach out again to whoever is around, you sense a familiar presence, Carol.
Your eyes return to normal and you land with your feet firm on the floor, you are full of determination. You feel the suffering of countless beings in the building. Floor by floor you release them, taking out any guards or threats on your way. When you're halfway through you finally find Carol slumped over in a clear case amid other heroes that have gone missing across the universe. You release the others one by one and ask to probe their minds before unlocking the abilities that the collector had somehow managed to dampen.
When you make it to Carol's case you sit on the ground next to her and pull her into your lap, gently you push the hair from her face. She barely stirs before her hands are around your neck, she's weak but you don't fight when she pushes into you, your back pressed against the ground as she straddles you.
"It's okay. I deserve it." You choke out through tears. You reach into her mind and unlock her powers without probing further.
"What are you doing?" She screams in frustration.
"You need your abilities to rescue everyone else. Please Carol, just do it." You sob, you don't fight her in the slightest. "I can't live with what I've done, I don't want to."
The pressure at your throat increases until your vision darkens around the edges.
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"It's too dangerous Carol!" You hear Shuri's voice in the distance.
"I need to know more. I need to understand what the hell happened in there. She wanted me to kill her." She whisper shouts.
"You were supposed to make sure she didn't get anything back, she's dangerous. You know that better than anyone else."
Carol sighs heavily, "That's why I'm taking her to a deserted planet. Once we have our feet on the ground I'll send the ship back into orbit. If something happens to me, at least she won't be able to hurt anyone else."
You don't hear the rest of the conversation as the crushing weight of your reality bares down on your chest until you struggle to breathe. Your eyes are fixed to the ceiling above you, but you see nothing. Your mind fogs up until your eyes loose focus and your thoughts vacate your mind.
You feel the ship land and Carol snaps you out of your trance, guiding you out of the ship before you watch it rise back into the air and disappear from sight.
You're in the middle of a field of tall grass, much like the one you and Carol played in as kids, this would be a good place to go. You sink to your knees before the love of your life and wait for her to speak.
"What happened to you?" She whispers, her voice full of emotion.
"I just wanted everything to stop. I didn't want to keep watching our friends and family suffering needlessly in a war that we were loosing in." Your eyes latch onto hers, "I was going to kill him myself, even if it meant I would die in the process. I didn't want to tell you, I knew you'd try and stop me."
You could see a shift in her gaze, understanding blooms in her features and you know she believes you, but the anger is still there.
"You killed for him."
"I was so wrapped up in my plan that I didn't think about the mind stone." You hang your head in shame. "I fucked up. I don't deserve mercy, I don't deserve to live. I let my emotions drive me to the point of endangering countless lives."
When you look up, she's gone. Her silhouette disappearing into the purple sky. You fall back into the grass and watch the sky change with the fading light of the sun as it dips below the horizon. You lay unmoving until exhaustion overtakes you and your eyes close.
Your sleep is fitful, nightmares of everything you'd done since joining Thanos plagues your vision. The face of every person you ever hurt flips through your mind like a photo album. You know you were manipulated, but the pain of your actions consumes you. The gnawing guilt is more than you can take, you don't want to wait for Carol to possibly return to put you out of your misery.
You rise from the ground and take flight into the dawn, you want to see something beautiful. You fly over the surface of the planet taking in its lush beauty. You make it to the Mountains taller than you've ever seen, dense forests with trees of colors you can't begin to describe, a bright sea with beaches of white sands.
When you're finally ready you shoot through the atmosphere as fast as your abilities will carry you. Your breathing becomes laboured as you break through the last layer, the icy chill of space envelopes you and your last thought of Carol's face.
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They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, but this memory is only vaguely familiar to you. You lay in the recovery room in the X-mansion, but you can't place when. Your eyes adjust to the brightness of the room and next to you a figure sits with her head in her hands.
"Carol." Your voice is weak, barely a whisper.
Her head shoots up, tears in her eyes as one of her hands desperately clasps onto yours and the other clasps your cheek.
"There you are."
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🌻how slashers calm down your anxiety🌼
slashers x gn reader
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this is how i imagine certain slashers would calm their s/o down while experiencing minor anxiety and negative thoughts
🌲 jason voorhees 🌿
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would make you tea from the stash the both of you kept from disposed-of campers
would awkwardly pat your thigh if you're sitting together or your head if you're standing
he tries so hard to be gentle but after so much time of being brutish and heavy handed its still difficult for him
gives you small bones and skulls of dead animals that he has polished to display in your shared cabin so that you can touch and feel to keep your mind off of the panic within you
has you sit in his lap and lets you focus on and touch his mask
takes you for a walk to the lake or to your secret meadow where the two of you can breathe in the crisp air and make flower crowns with all the pretty wildflowers
🎃 michael myers 🔪
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stares at you from the doorway while you're curled up in a ball on your bed
wants to do something but doesn't know the first thing about giving comfort
tries real hard though
brings you anxiety medication he finds in his victims' medicine cabinets
you won't use other people's medication of course, but its the thought that counts
lies next to you on his back as stiff as a board for you to cuddle into
hates it but if it will help calm you down he'll grit through his touch aversion
will sit next to you and let you explore his mask
otherwise he will just hover close by, hoping his presence will calm you some in letting you know you're not alone and he's here for you. in his own way
👻 billy loomis 🔪
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will put on your favorite horror film or comedy and lie with his head in your lap so that you can play with his hair
will have the two of you make choccy milkshakes in the kitchen together, to keep you busy with something you enjoy
will smother you with gentle attention to keep your mind away from its panicked self. soft kisses on your forehead, cheeks, lips, nose, chin. everywhere
will take you to your special spot: the outlook overlooking the valley. will then hold your hand and chat away about movies and music
otherwise he will simply be the big spoon on your bed and hold you close while whispering soothing words to you
🚜 thomas hewitt 👔
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once you show signs of your negative emotions and anxiety he will quickly lift you up and take you to the porch swing where he'll sit both of you down and bask in the warm sunshine while he holds you close to him and nuzzles into the crook of your neck
will keep you busy with tending the farm animals and let you pet the friendly ones noting how you seem to calm down feeling the warm fur beneath your fingers
if the house has the ingredients for it he will bring you to the kitchen where you and him can bake pie or cookies
if you experience some anxiety at night in the bedroom he'll have you sit on his lap by the rocking chair next to his open window to feel the crisp night breeze waft over you and cool your flushed skin down
🔧 bo sinclair 🧢
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doesn't know how to comfort you and gets angry
will start cussing at himself and pace back and forth in a panic
will ask you what you want a hundred times over
"you want a soda pop?" "you want a snack?" "maybe a burger from the diner. i can quickly go and get you one?" "can i put a dvd on for you?" and on and on he'll go
will eventually break down himself and hold onto you so tightly you cannot breathe anymore
will then whisper words of affirmation and praise to you, begging you to stop feeling so bad
if that fails he'll guide you to his truck to take a drive on the highway knowing you enjoy short roadtrips and the feeling of the wind whipping against your face from the open window
will stop at the next town's convenience store and buy you lots of candy and chips
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if you struggle with anxiety or anything else that impacts on your life in a negative way please know you are not alone and are loved and that help is not hard to find.
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cy-cyborg · 1 year ago
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Hi! I'm trying to include autistic and/or ADHD characters in my stories but I'm afraid I'm not doing a good job. I'm neurotypical, so I fear I might find myself using stereotypes and that's not my intention. Do you have any tips? Thank you in advance, have a nice day!
Ok, so personally I have a lot of trouble coming up with advice for auDHD (autism + ADHD) because, well, the spectrum of experience is so large and there isn't a lot of consistency within the community in regards to what is considered good representation vs just stereotypes. There's a few outliers, like every one I know has agreed Sia's movie "Music" is offensively bad lol, but pretty much everything else I can think of is less clear cut. Generally though, if you want examples of media portrayals of autism done well, avoid anything from or connected to Autism Speaks. They are not a reliable source.
I only really have 3 suggestions:
decide what level of support your character needs. Support needs for autism are variable and they can fluctuate throughout a person's life, but typically, people will fit into one of 3 categories. In Australia it's Level 1, Level 2 and Level 3 with Level 1 is defined as generally being low-support needs, and level 3 being generally very high support needs. Of course, it's a spectrum, so there's massive amounts of variably person-to-person, but as an author, it can be a good idea to pick one of the levels, because you'll typically find more specific information about how autism will present.
Find content creators (as in multiple) with both Autism and ADHD. It's a good idea to listen to the community directly, but when you're writing an AuDHD character in particular, you do need to be aware that those autism and ADHD can play into one another or in some cases, can cancel some traits of each other out (kind of). But it'll be different from person to person. They are very distinct disabilities, but they have some unusual interactions it's vital to be aware of. Ideally, you'll also want to try find auDHD people in the same age range and who are the same gender as your character. Different generations and age groups will treat AuDHD differently, and while It's not a hard and fast thing, both autism and ADHD manifest differently in men and women because of how we are socialized and raised (this applies to trans and nonbinary people too, they'll typically take on traits associated with the gender they were usually raised as, but not always. Personally, I showed a mix of both, but my traits do align more with the typical presentation of AuDHD in girls). Just a little side note, not every person creating content about Autism/ADHD is open to working with authors. Find content creators, listen to them, but don't ask them about your character specifically unless they have stated somewhere that they're open to helping with that kind of thing.
Find sensitivity readers and sensitivity consultants for autism and ADHD. A sensitivity reader goes over your manuscript once the draft is done, but consultants help you from even earlier on in the process. If you're worried about not doing the community justice, this is the best way to go. People online like myself can offer generalized advice, but SR's and SC's will be able to go much more in-depth with you and help you fix moment-to-moment issues in your story.
Some additional things to be mindful of as well when looking up further resources:
Both Autism and ADHD can make it difficult to regulate tone and emotion. This means you are likely going to get information from the community at some point that might not be easy to hear and you're not going to like how its presented to you lol. They're going to be blunt and maybe even "rude". It's not personal (usually lol) but don't expect everyone to be polite, and don't only take criticism from those who are. Tone and emotional regulation is literally a part of both disabilities for a lot of us, and this is a topic a lot of us have strong feelings about to begin with.
I mentioned it already, but avoid taking advice from anything connected to or directly from Autism Speaks.
Social media tends to favor low-support-needs folks, so you'll find info about them, from them, much easier. Even if you're writing a LSN character, be mindful of that bias
Be wary of anyone claiming autism/ADHD is a superpower unironically. This is one of those things that's said by a lot of lower support needs folks and is often a warning sign that they might hold harmful beliefs about other parts of the community and could give you bad info. Just again, something to be aware of when researching.
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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years ago
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❄️HIS FOREVER❄️
A/N: fanficmas is hereee!!!! its honestly my fav time and im always so excited to bring you so much content, i hope you guys will enjoy them all!!
WORD COUNT: 810
SUMMARY: You're decorating your home for the first Christmas you'll spend living together.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!
It’s been hard for Harry to get into the holiday spirit these past years. With the hectic life he’s been living the past decade, he never really had time to do all the little things that would get him all excited for Christmas. He never decorated, mostly because he didn’t even have anything to hang up around his home. He didn’t have the time to bake cookies and do all the holiday activities people love to do and he doesn’t even know when the last time was he went to a Christmas market.
He always told himself he didn’t care about any of it, he was fine with just going home right before Christmas and spend only a few days dedicated to the holiday that’s the most loved. However, deep down he knew he would love it if it was different.
And this year is when it all changes.
It’s the first year he is approaching the holidays living with you, sharing a home. His place went through a lot of changes since you’ve moved in and he loves it all. He loves seeing you in every corner, your touch has turned it into a home.
He’s known since day one how much you love Christmas and he’s been to your apartment around the holidays before. Unlike him, you take pride in dressing up your home, sprinkling the festive spirit all over it. Secretly, he spent more time at yours around December, enjoying the sweet scent of cinnamon and apples, bask in the beauty of the lights you hung up everywhere you could. He envied the kind of vibe you brought to your own home and dreamed of a day when he could share it all with you.
He’s heading home after a long studio session. He’s had a busy week and he wants nothing else than to just relax and rewind with you, maybe watch a movie and then go to bed, sleeping in tomorrow. With everything on his plate, he barely even processed that December has started.
So when he arrives home, opens the front door, walks in and hears the soft Christmas music playing, he’s surprised at first, but then warmth takes over his chest a moment later.
“Babe?” he calls out with a tiny smile, because he knows you’ve finally started to decorate the place.
“Right here!” your sweet voice answers him and he follows it to the dining table that’s covered in boxes, ornaments and all kinds of decorations flowing out of their storage. He stops for a moment, watching you quietly hum to the music as you sort through some tiny ornaments.
As if you could sense his gaze, you glance up, eyes meeting his and you smile at him warmly.
“Hi there, how was your day?”
“Fine. Good to be back home.” Walking over he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek before sitting beside you. “I see December has officially started,” he teases you.
“Well of course!” You beam before your face falls and you look at him with big eyes. “You don’t mind that I’m decorating, right?”
“No,” he shakes his head smiling. “I love it. Can I help?”
He is not dreading the kind of relaxing he did before, his plans to do nothing are long gone and all he wants is wants to be with you and do anything that makes you happy, because it makes him happy too. It’s a dynamic he never thought would live to have in his life, finding a person who has such a strong effect on him. But he did and he knows he never wants to let go of you.  
“If you want to. You don’t have to though,” you say, peeking at him, but he just leans over and steals a kiss.
“I want to.”
The oven chimes in the kitchen and you perk up.
“Oh, the oranges!” you exclaim as you get up from the table.
“Huh? The oranges?” he asks, following you curiously into the kitchen. He watches as you take a tray out of the oven, full of orange slices.
“I dried them out, gonna put them on a string. It’s pretty and smells amazing,” you explain to him, assessing the slices, making sure they are perfect.
When you look up you catch Harry watching you with a lovestruck look that brings heat to your cheeks.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing, I’m just… I love you.”
“I love you too,” you reply, his words warming your chest. He steps closer and places his hands to your waist, kissing the side of your head.
“So… we’re putting them on a string?”
“Yeah. Wanna do that? I’ll show you.”
“Sure,” he smiles and he would do just about anything you ask. Whether it’s for Christmas, Thanksgiving or Easter, you’ll always be his happiness, his one and only, his forever.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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spinnysocks · 6 months ago
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Welcome to my Den! 🐾
*remakes pinned for the millionth time :3*
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By: @/feathers-fins-and-fangs, @/batsbolts-andboards, @/phantompawz, @/timberbark, @/mollytoons, @/sweetpeauserboxes, @/lookineedsleep
Last updated: 25/09 🌙
Pronouns Page | Boundaries | DNI in bio
Rb'ing for Palestine: @iftheresanythingleft | Moodboard making: @poetryforcoyotes | TLG ask blog: @tlg-confessions
Some stuff about the blogger!
Hi, my name's Spinny! This is my Main Blog! :)
My favoured pronouns shift; in (bold) are my favoured atm! - he/him 🌿 it/its 🌿 they/them 🌿 xe/xem 🌿 ze/zim 🌿 sol/sols 🌿 star/stars 🌿 void/voids 🌿 coy/coyote 🌿 fox/foxs 🌿 yip/yips 🌿 croc/crocs
I prefer interchangeable use of those above, but generally answer to he/it and any of my neopronouns <3
Very queer!! I'm nonbinary, genderqueer, xenofluid, aroace and a fuck ton of other labels that I hoard at @foxsocksvoid :)
I'm an alterhuman, specifically a polymorph! Planning to make a post going into my identity more, but my strongest types are fox, crocodile, coyote and hyena
I am neurodivergent (suspected AuDHD), suspected APD and a maladaptive daydreamer with some other coping mechanism disorders. As a result, I find interacting etc hard so please bare with me. More info in my boundaries ^^
I am a gemini, my birthday is June 6th and I am pagan! Just a creature guy who loves movies and is going into wildlife conservation & management :D
Self-proclaimed Warrior Cats veteran and the #1 Whitestorm fan, but relatively new in the Lion Guard fanbase! Great to be here c:
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Blog Information!
I am an adult but my blog is SFW with strictly NO NSFW. Though I do swear.
Except for this post, I type almost entirely in lowercase!
Please tag me if responding to a comment/any mention, otherwise I don't see it! :c
I repost stimboards which may have auto-playing gifs and art that may contain minor blood or animal death (warrior cats or other art)! I tag these under #tw blood, #tw gore, #tw death, #tw cat death and #tw implied death. I do not tag auto-playing gifs.
IF something ever happens to Tumblr, I'm “spinnysocks” or “ricoofdoom” on everything. I'd probably migrate to discord as well as pillowfort or cohost but Tumblr is my everything so hopefully not!!
This post will likely be updated on a near-daily basis due to pronouns shifting and general forgetfulness.
Other info can be found on my boundaries post / just ask! ^^
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Asks!
Send me asks!!! (/nf) They are always open and I love getting any asks or mentions about anything at all! Send me or tag me as much as you'd like <3
I have character opinion bingo asks that are always open too! Check out the tag for who I've been asked about already ^^
I am also always open for the character ask game! That has a tag too :)
I'm also completely happy to participate in tag games of any kind! They're so fun!!
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Interests!
Current fixations: Warrior Cats, Clangen, The Lion Guard!
Other fandoms: Madagascar, Watership Down, Night At The Museum, Guardians Of The Galaxy, Space Jam/The Looney Tunes, Ice Age, Kung Fu Panda, Sonic, Shakespeare and Dead Poets Society. Mada and Ice Age are my oldest and I'm very fond of them c:
Games I like: RDR2, WolfQuest, Endling, Stray, Shelter Generations, The Isle, Jurassic World Evolution, Planet Zoo, Minecraft, Roblox and Rain World. I own RDR2, WQ, Endling, JWE, PZ, Minecraft and Roblox while the others are interests (aka my pc is shit and/or I can't afford them lmfao)
General: indie/rock music, kids/fantasy movies, cinema, writing, drawing, more to add :3
Basically, I love creatures, fantasy and animated movies! Please talk to me about any of the above interests if you'd like to, or even ask me if I've seen a specific media! I don't bite!! <3
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My “Random Shit” links!
Watership Down uquiz (my first post :D)
What Species Would You Choose To Be Reincarnated As (poll)
Warrior Cats mass animations playlist
Favourite Character Bingo 2023
The Lion Guard stuff!
Royal Mjuzi! Nduli AU
Young crocs headcannons
Christmastime headcannons
RDR2/Wild West AU
Jumanji AU
Scar's Guard AU fanfic & the Scar's Guard AU post
Warrior Cats AU
TLG Pride Month 2024 (see tag for all posts)
Outlanders Hunger Games sim (see tag for all posts)
That's all! Thank you very much for reading <3 🐾
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saltyyuuri · 19 days ago
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Valorant headcanons
Sova and Iso
These are my personal headcanons; there might be some ooc ones; beware.
Warning; anything in red is NSFW head canon.
Sova:
I feel like he sometimes forgets his own size at times; like he sometimes forgets his own strength. Like he forgets that he is really tall or has a more imposing stature-
Just like how sometimes he's going to be VERY aware of his size- like to purposely intimidate someone. You really can't win-
Won't be too embarrassed if he misses a shot- but you can bet he's going to feel bad if he misses a shot that could help a teammate (like teammate is being attacked by two people and he's trying to get one down for them even though the teammate never asked)
If you ask nicely, he would make you something to eat/drink.
If you have a period and run out of period products, he would offer to fetch some. He would probably throw in a snack or drink for good measure.
Doesnt do anything fancy hair care wise- but would 100% sit and let you do anything haircare wise as long as there's no cutting/dyeing
Doesn't mind training new recruits; but he would be slightly upset if he was a "last resort" choice.
Definitely would be strict/rough during training. No bullshit, and he will make you start over until you get it right. Even if it takes all day.
But then he would probably get you something to eat or drink as an "apology" of sorts if he feels like he went a bit too hard on training
Easy to fluster- and even if he thinks he can outplay you on that-if you throw him a curveball you're just going to fluster him even more.
Nsfw here:
Would generally soft dom- but 100% goes feral if pushed.
Pulling his hair/grabbing his jaw/pet talk him and he'll most likely let you take the lead
If he's top- usually soft but sometimes he'll spice things up with rope/punishment - reward/ praise
Seeing you in nothing but his shirt gets him going
Experimental. He would definitely try stuff just for fun. His limits are with anything involving extra people-
Loves marking- on him or on you, either works. But usually tries to mark areas that aren't too visible.
Iso:
Even though he always has his earbuds in, he probably just keeps "stay aware" mode on with volume on lowest, playing stuff like Lo-Fi to be able to hear around him
Has tinnitus; the low volume music is to not have to hear the rigning.
Dry texter- and sometimes he will reply with only a meme. (Ex.:" hey someone died last mission " and he would send something like: "ok")
Amazing music suggestions - like he has a song for everything. Every vibe. He even has songs specifically for you to match your vibes- and they never miss.
Takes training to your pace- will encourage you to push harder but won't force it. And he makes sure you stretch to avoid injury - if you do get injured he will scold you but help you with it nevertheless.
He will invite you out to food/drinks if you are mildly off- could litterally be low on energy that day and he'll offer boba at his own expense
If you're out of period products - he will go if you ask but if you dont specify what- he'll just kinda grab stuff and wing it. Could just show up with wrong size products/brands ect. But he would get your favorite snack tho
Will act pouty if you steal his clothes- but refuses to take back anything you wore because "it suits you better"
NSFW;
Dom- very rarely lets you take the top. "You're my pillow princess"
"lingerie > nothing" kind of guy
Pet names in the bedroom
Would be a bit rougher- and the rougher the more aftercare you'd get. (Like bath, massage, cuddles, movie, food, warm drink... You could ask for anything and he'd say yes.)
When he IS bottom though? Vocal as hell. Needy as hell. Total 180. Don't tease him about it though, its a vulnerable moment.
Shameless- he will let you know whenever he wants you. Could be mid mission, at the mall or visiting his family- he finds a way to subtly tell you and enjoys seeing you flustered about it.
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