#well it was pointed out to me by a gift of a friend

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[author-main]

Okay, Okay haha. This is the entire wip. It probably won't be expanded on.

--- ... ---

Witness: I have an amazing eye for finding and identifying gemstones. I can tell, even from here, that the defense attorney's studded earrings are real diamonds!

Athena: I didn't know you were the type, Boss.

Phoenix: OBJECTION! That statement immediately calls into question your credibility, Witness. If your talent for identifying gems was really that good, then you'd be able to tell that these aren't diamonds, they're cubic zirconia! 

Witness: N-no! Those are real diamonds!

Judge: Defense, did you buy these earrings yourself?

Phoenix: ? No, Your Honor. My friend gave them to me as a birthday gift over five years ago. They told me they were cubic zirconia.

Judge: Quite the gift to receive from just a friend! And to wear them still after all this time?

Phoenix: Well… these are my birthstones, so I don't see it as a strange gift. Diamonds are, actually, but zirconia’s way cheaper. And of course I'd still wear them! I love these earrings, they're from my greatest friend!

Edgeworth: …

Judge: Well, does the prosecution have anything to say about the witness’s mistake? If he claims to be so good at 

Edgeworth: … Zirconia and Diamond are incredibly similar to each other, Your Honor and the earrings are quite small. A mistake such as that could be made by anyone, no matter how talented they are—

Witness: Hold it! But those are diamonds! They glimmer too brightly! The facets are completely different! Zirconia can not be that clear!!

Edgeworth: Urgh…! (I suppose it would only help my case if the witness's abilities were verified. But it might throw the court into a bedlam.)

Edgeworth: I… Your Honor. I suppose it… would be an easy mistake for someone like you or I to make. But my witness can name clear differences between the two gemstones. I believe we should trust his judgment.

Phoenix: OBJECTION! This friend of mine wouldn't make a mistake like that! The costs for zirconia and diamond are wildly different! And a jewelry store would NOT skimp out on the price of a diamond! He would notice!

Edgeworth: Objection… perhaps… your friend lied to you.

Phoenix: Why?

Edgeworth: Mr. Wright, you come from a poorer upbringing, do you not?

Phoenix: Wow.

Edgeworth: It is safe to assume that this friend of yours believed you wouldn't accept diamonds.

Judge: But if someone was so poor, wouldn't the friend think he'd pawn any jewelry he had off? Especially five years ago? I heard his disbarment was quite hard on Mr. Wright.

Phoenix: I—

Edgeworth: Objection! Your Honor! … As the defense claims, he considers the person who gifted him the earrings to be his “greatest friend”. Anyone who knows Mr. Wright personally would know that he cherishes everything he's given!

Edgeworth: … Or it is evidence in a case.

Judge: I see… but the defense’s point still stands, Mr. Edgeworth. Do you have decisive proof that his friend lied to him about the earrings?

Edgeworth: Objection! I don't see how that has any bearing on the trial today—!

Phoenix: Objection! It's incredibly important, because we need hard proof that what the witness claims is true! Otherwise I call his credibility into question!

Edgeworth: URRGHHH!!! (I just wish he'd let this go and we could talk about this later! But I NEED this testimony to go through! And I'm sure if it doesn't, it'll only help his case.)

Edgeworth: …

Edgeworth: The proof… is in my possession. 

Phoenix: It is?

Athena: It is?

Judge: It is?

Edgeworth: Well, not on my person, but the receipt for the earrings’ purchase… is at my house. They are real, recycled diamond earrings.

Judge: A-and why do you have that receipt?! Were you planning on bringing this friend as a witness?!

Edgeworth: (As sharp as ever, Your Honor…) No. I am the friend who gave them to the defense.

Gallery: *Chatter* *chatter* *chatter*

Judge: Order! Order!

Judge: A-ah! I see! B-but! Wh-why would you—

Edgeworth: As the defense said! Diamonds are his birthstone. But I had a feeling he wouldn't accept it, because of their price. So I led him to believe they were cubic zirconia.

Judge: Th-that's still quite the expensive gift!

Edgeworth: What does it matter?! Zirconia, Diamond, it could be the most expensive royal crown jewels! No gemstone will ever come close to being as brilliant nor as precious as Mr. Wright is to me!

Phoenix: …

Athena: …

Judge: …

Gallery: …

Edgeworth: Wait. Wait!

The courtroom erupts. Phoenix goes beet red. The Judge tries to get everything under control.

Edgeworth: ERGO! My witness is 100% correct when he identifies the defense’s earrings as diamonds. His abilities to identify gemstones stands, and the fact he can tell what they are, despite standing some ten feet away from the bench and the earrings being smaller than a fingertip.

Judge: W-well, uh, err… yes, I believe that. Proves the witness’s credibility. U-unless the defense has something to… add? Where is the defense?

Phoenix is under the table.

Phoenix: Th-the defense needs a minute… to regain the feeling in his knees…

Athena: Uhh! We concede! Please proceed to the testimony!

Despite Edgeworth fighting harder to prove the defendant's guilt, Phoenix still wins the case.

Phoenix: He thinks I'm precious…

A wip that may never see the light of day. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again no problem 11/26/2024

i don't have a good anecdote this week, i have the flu. look at my cat

listening

ty @shinygoodrock for the rec! billy bragg's the marching song of the covert. i was startled by the british accent but briefly forgot the uk's been colonizing way longer than god's favorite country, the usa

so SO cheery and so catchy! samples When The Ants Go Marching In!

Here we come with our candy and our guns And our corporate muscle marches in behind us For freedom's just another word for nothing left to sell And if you want narcotics we can get you those as well

it reminds me a lot of this poster i have framed but not hung up yet, jesse purcell's "A.G.F.T.P.O.T.U.S.O.A. (A Gift From The People Of The United States Of America)" (getcher own print at the link through justseeds)

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reading

my favorite tinned fish newsletter is back! i like this newsletter for its dry anecdotal voice, but i coincidentally have a tin of mackerel in tomato sauce in the pantry for mackintosh name reasons. seems like the best way to have it is fairly plain with some light seasonings. the author was a senior editor at vice and has been out of work for a bit since that site's collapse, so it's good to see him back doing silly free nonsense like his tinned fish newsletter

i had Dreadful by Caitlin Rozakis on hold for nearly six months so it extra hurt when i didn't particularly care for it.

like, what a premise! a beautifully written blurb that got my attention! i think i got an ad for this one on instagram. either that or it was floating around on this site.

A sharp-witted, high fantasy farce featuring killer moat squid, toxic masculinity, evil wizards and a garlic festival - all at once. Perfect for fans of T. Kingfisher, K. J. Parker and Travis Baldree. It’s bad enough waking up in a half-destroyed evil wizard’s workshop with no eyebrows, no memories, and no idea how long you have before the Dread Lord Whomever shows up to murder you horribly and then turn your skull into a goblet or something. It’s a lot worse when you realize that Dread Lord Whomever is… you. Gav isn’t really sure how he ended up with a castle full of goblins, or why he has a princess locked in a cell. All he can do is play along with his own evil plan in hopes of getting his memories back before he gets himself killed. But as he realizes that nothing – from the incredibly tasteless cloak adorned with flames to the aforementioned princess – is quite what it seems, Gav must face up to all the things the Dread Lord Gavrax has done. And he’ll have to answer the hardest question of all – who does he want to be? Dread Lord Gavrax has had better weeks.

this is a debut novel based on a friendgroup's DnD campaign, and it does show a bit. maybe you have a friend who’s freshly into improv? it gets a little wrapped up in Doing Bits. at several points i did think “i could be reading terry pratchett right now instead of enduring this bit.”

the writing itself is solid on a technical level-- there's a good balance of dialogue to description, no word choices really slammed me in the face, it flowed pretty nicely and was a fast read. flounders a bit in the middle but does pick up speed, a middling-okay pacing. if this were not a debut novel and felt a little bit more done on purpose i would be interested in talking about how the frantic lunge from plot point to plot point mirrors our protag's internal sense of self.

i do not think this rises to the level of farce, or even pastiche. it is a darkly comedic but fairly straightforward fantasy. very light PG romance elements.

so much of it is concerned with perceptions/expectations/visual tropes and then the big baddie is simply a baddie with no further interrogation. like a lot A LOT of philosophical musings on the nature of evil and the expectations thereof creating self image and morality and has unionized goblins. everything else in this book is questioned. you can’t go halfway with a deconstruction or you’re just writing more of the genre you’re trying to deconstruct. there was a scene that really clicked satisfyingly in my brain with a female sorceress, where she goes basically everyone expects me to be a bitch and a whore so let's just cut to the chase and have fun being a bitch and a whore. this alternate viewpoint of misogyny making you evil does not successfully contrast with our protag's internal calibration and view of evil but damn if that isn't the experience of being a woman in stem.

the protagonist, gav, wakes up with No memories and thereby becomes Good. or at least Better. does rozakis feel that everyone is born good and your reactions to things happening to you shape your morality? there's a reveal that one of the murders amnesiac!gav is most torn up about didn't actually happen bc his staff faked it and smuggled her out. i think this seriously undercuts the moderate amount of thinking and soulsearching and figuring out how to atone for past actions he does previously. and then it doesn’t really address any of the problems it tangled with in favor of a movie ending. it did tread a bit into therapyspeak for me. fewer shades of gray than i would have liked.

this book is also extremely heterosexual for what i expect a modern comedy fantasy to be. it neatly sidesteps the gay=/= evil conundrum but it was startling to find our protagonist with not even a curious homosexual thought.

occasionally irritating, but it was funny, except when it had to unfold some plot and forgot about being funny. this was a perfectly pleasantly written debut novel but wasn’t quite what i wanted or expected. it tries a lot of things and it’s interesting to watch the rube goldberg machine of a plot work and fail in some parts, even if it really did not carry through on its central philosophy.

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watching

breezing through a lot of stuff bc it's easier to sleep propped up on my couch arm than in my actual bed. i usually don’t long DNFs but has to remind myself never to try Quo Vadis again. my god is that a tiresome film. and not even pretty costumes or pretty set design for the first forty minutes. whereupon i bailed. all of these were first time watches, dunno why I haven’t been reaching for comfort movies lately

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playing

genshin update knocking it out of the park and also really reminding me of link tearsofthekingdom. also introduces a really good bird you can possess and fly around with. lots of vertical sky/coastline exploration which is so so so fun. i have done most of the things in this update inside a week bc i don't think they anticipated unemployed people like mainlining it between applying for jobs.

this girl's village has background music that reminds me of classic american westerns like bernstein or copland? heavy billy the kid ballet vibes. the music in this update is SO good im excited to yell about it in an future week when they drop the next album.

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making

still fallow baybee. currently incubating the influenza. no longer feverish thank u nyquil

[sjyzip]

ᯓ ✈︎ paradise found .ᐟ ˎˊ˗

⤷ 9. busted📍

wc: 913

warnings: swearing

“you can do it, you can do it” was all jake could hear at the moment, he was trying to hype himself up to actually go and talk to you and say the truth before things got out of control and also before riki ended up bankrupt.

jake took a deep breath and left his hotel room. walking down the hallway to get to the elevator, while he waited for the elevator to arrive he was repeating your room number in his head as if somehow he stopped doing it he would immediately forget. “406, 406, 406…” once the elevator arrived he pressed the fourth floor button and waited for the doors to close. the elevator ride seemed a bit longer this time, even if it was a pretty short ride of just three floors, it felt incredibly long this time but jake ignored it, thinking his nerves were acting up.

the elevator doors opened, signaling the arrival at the fourth floor, he left the elevator and looked around the hallways before turning left to get to your hotel room. once he finally got to your hotel room he started to doubt this whole thing “what if she gets mad at me? what if she thinks me and riki are some kind of weirdos?” But he left all his doubts behind and knocked on your door. he anxiously waited for a response until the door, eventually, creaked open, except it wasn’t the response he expected.

“hey! you’re that guy!” a red haired girl pointed at him. “uh i don’t know, i guess so?” jake replied a bit confused. “yeah you are! the dog-“ yunjin said before being cut off from inside the room “never mind, so what do you need?” yunjin asked jake. “oh actually can i talk to y/n? I need to clear something up” jake said while rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. “oh yeah sure! let me get her” yunjin said before backing out a little bit and then shouting your name. you appeared a few seconds later, fixing your clothes after sitting down for a long time. when you appeared, jake smiled softly unconsciously, well at least that’s what yunjin thought.

“oh hi! didn’t expect to see you here” you said while glaring yunjin to get the message that she should give you two some privacy. “so what did you want to talk about? is it about that day..?” you asked, remembering the awkward encounter you both had. “oh no it’s not about that, it’s actually about your.. secret admirer” he said, lowering his voice after every word till the last words were just some whispers. “OH! Are you my secret admirer? well woah, I’m flattered actually-“ you started rambling like you always did before jake cut you off. “not really, I mean yes?? I picked the gift, riki bought it so-“ jake rambled too before you cut him off, totally shocked.

“YOU PICKED THE GIFT?? AND RIKI BOUGHT IT??” you shouted in confusion, looking at him bewildered. “yes and yes but let me explain first pleaseee?” he asked with a small smile before proceeding anyways. “the thing is.. when riki asked for your room number it was actually for.. me! FOR NOTHING WEIRD BY THE WAY! I just liked talking to you that day on the beach and wanted to be your friend” he clarified, slightly embarrassed about revealing the true reason for riki getting your room number.

“Oh! yeah that makes sense, but what about the secret admirer?” you asked him again “okay so riki is a terrible liar! And he made a terrible lie with the secret admirer thing instead of just telling the truth, which I apologize for, he’s a little weird sometimes” he giggled before continuing. “And the gift.. I can’t really explain the gift, I just looked the bag and said it was cute but when I saw the bag up close and i noticed the price, I literally gasped and riki just went with it and bought a thousand dollar bag” he said, jokingly disappointed in him. “well, thanks for clarifying the whole thing and also thanks for the bag, it’s pretty cute, you got a pretty good taste” you said with a smile.

“yeah? well.. you’re welcome” he nodded with a small, shy smile as he spoke. “hey, you said you wanted to be my friend right?” you asked him. “uh yeah I did” he nodded again. “well can you give me your phone? I’ll give you my number” you said as you looked at his phone in his hand. “my phone? oh sure, take it” he agreed, a bit bewildered before unlocking it so you could give him your number. you wrote your number carefully before handing him his phone back. “there you go! I think we’ll be good friends” you giggled. “yeah I also think that, see you around?” he said as he put his phone in his pocket. “see you around” you repeated with a nod as you closed your room door.

jake stared for a while at the closed door in front of him before snapping off his thoughts and turning around to head back to the elevator. he knew that if he told his friends about this he would get teased for it but he didn’t really care now cause he was surprisingly in a good mood after clarifying the whole situation like if a weight got lifted from his shoulders.

previous masterlist next

taglist: @domfikeluva, @keylimejake , @starry-eyed-bimbo, @rairaiblog , @tkooooop , @right-person-wrong-time

[portalhan]

⠀ꔫ˚　༝　◌ ⌒⌒ three strikes !

↳ jeongin swears on his life that he's seen something odd between you and felix... exactly three times, in fact, but he needs more concrete proof...

PAIRING: felix lee x gn!reader

FORMAT: one shot

GENRE: college au, friends to lovers, fluff, jeongin third wheeling...

WARNINGS: brief mentions of food and being sick (just the flu bug nothing huge)

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

FAE'S NOTES: this is just a little bit half-assed... idk if i have much faith in this and i believe i can do better than this but i'm gonna post it anyway for you guys! please let me know if you have any feedback, my writing muscles have basically atrophied and i need to find my rhythm again TT

jeongin doesn't usually second-guess his closest friends like this, but something has changed. he knows you and felix well enough to know at least that.

you have always been hard to read. you're an independent, reliable sort of person, not outwardly emotional nor needlessly arrogant either���you tend to show your love for your friends through small, quiet gestures. felix, on the other hand, is someone who wears his heart on his sleeve—almost to a fault. always baking extra brownies to gift people, always going the extra mile, always looking on the bright side, even in the darkest of situations. he is as fragile as he is affectionate.

yes, affectionate. that's the word he's been looking for to describe the changes in your friendship with felix. you've been more affectionate. jeongin has always chalked it up to felix's own proclivities rubbing off on you given the sheer amount of time you spend together, but now... he's not so sure it's that simple. there have been three strikes jeongin has kept score of so far.

STRIKE #1

jeongin remembers it was a tuesday, because that's the only day of the week where all three of you shared classes. you would always sit in a row near the back of the class. he has made it a point to memorise both yours and felix's timetables this semester—as do the both of you with him—so he knows you don't usually have prior arrangements before coming to campus. you've always had a tradition of meeting in the lobby before walking to class together as a result.

so, when his phone pings with a message from you saying 'sorry innie, we're gonna be a bit late! pls go to class first, just save us seats', he is immediately struck with confusion. what did you mean, "we"? felix, uncharacteristically, hasn't said a word and it's already 5 minutes shy from when class starts. he always arrives at least 10 minutes before. how strange, jeongin thinks to himself as he trudges up the stairs to class, incredibly unfamiliar with the circumstance of having to do so on his own for the first time. he just brushes the nagging suspicion off, telling himself it was probably because of some public transport situation that's delayed you both—not something entirely uncommon.

it's about 15 minutes into the class before he sees you. the second he spots felix and you stumbling through the doors, profusely apologising to the professor for your tardiness, though, is when the same sensation of suspicion comes back. as you and felix shuffle to make their way to the seats jeongin saved for you, he can't help but notice your attire. you're wearing an oversized black shirt with some graphic of an anime printed on. jeongin's eyes squint as he stares at it, assuming it must have been a new purchase of yours. but he swears he's seen it before.

when you and felix take your seats and the professors picks up where she left off, felix turns to jeongin and apologises for being late. "we're really sorry jeongin, we owe you one," he quips, before he fishes his laptop out of his bag. the younger boy just shrugs it off as no big deal. plus, he had something else on his mind to worry about than harp on the two of you being late to class.

the dots quickly connect a few moments later in jeongin's head. felix has a shirt just like the one you're wearing. he swears he's seen him wearing it before, just last week when the three of you had gone out for dinner. it's been a shirt of his for years now, so worn down by so many uses that it has bleach stains on the sleeves, despite how much care felix puts into his clothing.

jeongin leans back in his chair and slowly, subtly pushes it back. he steals a glance at your side profile, thankfully without either you or felix noticing. there they were: bleach stains on the sleeves. upon further inspection, the shirt you were wearing looks way too worn out to be a new shirt—he concludes it must be felix's. but why would you wear felix's dank shirt to begin with? it would be weird to ask if that's his shirt you were wearing, so he decides to keep his silence for now.

STRIKE #2

this time, it was jeongin's turn to be late. the three of you had planned a picnic to celebrate the end of the gruelling semester—an idea felix suggested. he wanted it to be a potluck, so the each of you planned to bring something of your own making along.

jeongin wanted to go all out with his: he wanted to bake cupcakes, something felix had recently taught him how to. he wanted to show you his latest endeavours, baked fresh, but he didn't expect it to go sideways so last minute. he ended up showing up almost half an hour late, hair sticking to his forehead from all the sweat and cupcake frosting smeared all over the tupperware he placed them in out of haste.

when he finally spots the two of you amid the grass field at the park, he notices something... odd. he stops in his tracks to catch his breath and squints his eyes to get a better look. if he didn't know any better, he'd have thought you two were... holding hands? the sun was glaring directly in his face, obscuring his vision, so jeongin couldn't be 100% sure. but what he does know is that your figures were so close to each other they were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. this isn't exactly beyond felix, who is notorious for his habits of physical affection. but it is most certainly out of character for you, as someone who prefers to keep most people at an arm's length.

jeongin shrugs it off. he guesses felix nor he would be considered "most people". perhaps it was a trick of the light. he also doesn't have good enough reason to find it entirely strange—perhaps felix had gotten through to you in that regard. he had bigger things to worry about: your dinner getting cold.

STRIKE #3

the legitimacy of the third time is still up for debate, jeongin surmises. this time it wasn't your behaviour around each other, instead more so about how felix in particular reacted.

this happened over summer break. he remembers the sun being more unrelenting than ever—40 degrees celsius to be exact, he saw on the news—so you three had just decided to hang out in your bedroom, where the air conditioning is the coolest and crispiest (according to you). jeongin vividly recalls you lying on your stomach atop your bed, while the two boys were sprawled on the floor. that is, the carpet that laid over the spot where they would usually sprawl on the floor.

it was one of those 'parallel play' days, as you liked to call them. not necessarily doing things together, but doing separate things in the presence of each other, you said one time. felix was busy on his switch playing some pokemon game, you were scrolling on your phone and jeongin was just seconds away from drifting off to sleep on felix's lap.

it's been silent for, what, almost two hours now? but you end up breaking it first. "woah," you suddenly exclaimed, brows furrowing as you read something on your screen. "do you guys remember seungmin? from calculus?"

jeongin does not move an inch aside from nodding his head, and felix just lets out a little "yeah?" though his eyes were never once peeled from the console screen.

"i think he just asked me out," you tell them, bewildered.

this, of course, elicits reactions of surprise from jeongin and felix. the former lifts himself and sits up to ask details, while the other just turns the switch off—did he even save his progress on the game?—and sits there in silence as he silently watches you and jeongin discuss your classmate's... proposition. jeongin makes a playful jab at how you could have given him the wrong idea by flirting with him, which you immediately shut down. "i've never done anything suggestive to him, i swear!" you exclaimed in full defense.

seungmin has only ever made conversation with you once or twice in class, jeongin recalls. you also never really put in the effort to get to know your other classmates if jeongin and felix were in the same classes. jeongin makes a passing comment about how seungmin could pass as your type (if you squint hard enough), but it falls on deaf ears when you and felix meet each other's gazes.

"you're gonna tell him no, right?" felix suddenly chimes in after moments of prolonged silence, raspy voice cracking just a little. jeongin snaps his head to turn and look at his friend, head tilted and brow lifted. you give felix a look jeongin cannot quite describe, and chuckle with a soft smile as you nod. "of course i'm gonna say no," you assure him. he lets out a very heavy sigh of relief, but none of this goes unnoticed by jeongin.

this is very weird, jeongin remembers thinking. you have always been receptive to potential love interests, even if they weren't necessarily people you'd normally be into. so why are you so sure now that you'd reject seungmin without even giving him a chance?

on that note, what's it to felix who asks you out? why does he have a say? plus, he could've sworn he detected some semblance of... jealousy in his question. but he supposes that could be normal considering all three of you are so used to spending time with each other. jeongin does admit to himself that he'd feel lonely if you were to be whisked away by some stranger out of nowhere. it wouldn't be the same.

jeongin has theories, maybe even concepts of a theory, but no concrete enough proof for confrontation—so far. it looks like he has to wait till he does before he can address the massive elephant in the room.

FINAL STRIKE

it finally happens when he decides to stop by your apartment with take-out. you had told your friends about falling sick the night before—alas, you have caught the flu bug. they were just textbook symptoms like a low-grade fever, sore throat and a runny nose, nothing to worry about in particular, you told them. but jeongin just so happens to pass by your neighbourhood on his usual route home from work, so he decides to drop in with some chicken soup for you as a small surprise. you had already been texting the group chat the entire day about how exhausted you were to make yourself a half-decent dinner, so jeongin thought this would be a nice way to take care of his friend.

he knocks on your door multiple times to no response. maybe you're sleeping? he looks around the potted plants sitting outside your door and lifts the snake plant up, grabbing the rusted spare key tucked away from prying eyes just underneath. he quickly and quietly unlocks the front door and lets himself in. i'll just go in, check on y/n and put this soup on the table, he tells himself as he enters. maybe text you to let you know he got you dinner.

that is, until a warm aroma of what he believes to be fresh bolognese wafts to where he is at the front door. he hears the distant clanging of pots and pans coming from the kitchen, and—strangest of all—he hears... conversation? he can definitely hear you talking and even giggling, but he can't quite make out who the other person was. he's about 99% sure there was someone else in here, but could it be just a phone call? he sneaks down the hallway to the kitchen, the noises getting clearer as he inches closer. when he sticks his head out from a blind corner to peek into the kitchen, he sees it: felix plating a fresh bowl of spaghetti while you're sitting on the dining table engaged in idle chatter. a lump catches in his throat—what is felix doing here? and most importantly, why didn't he know of this? he felt momentarily betrayed.

jeongin just stands there in silence, unsure of how to confront you, while you and felix continue chatting. it's only when felix sets down two plates of pasta and goes in to plant a peck on your cheek does jeongin yelp in shock, which frightens all three of you.

felix squints his eyes, which widen in utter disbelief when he recognises the familiar facade lurking by the corridor. "jeong...in?" he asks, voice trembling a little from disbelief. when he says jeongin's name, you shoot him a similar look, but this one is more panicked and afraid. jeongin awkwardly steps out within view, but he puts a hand up to cover his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. he raises the other arm to point an accusatory finger at the both of you. you swear you just heard felix gulp next to you.

"i..." jeongin sputters. "i knew it! i knew something was going on between you two idiots!"

the verbalisation of his revelation is what completely opens the floodgates, causing the entire place to erupt in complete and utter chaos. jeongin paces back and forth with the chicken soup still dangling from his fingers as he rants about how he's caught you doing "weird stuff" a couple of times but couldn't have known, about how he's been feeling a little left out recently, how you have been looking at felix funny sometimes. meanwhile, felix just begins to talk over him with near-equal (if not more) amounts of sheer panic and distress, reaching out to him to get him to calm down while explaining that this wasn't how they had intended for him to find out.

you, crippled by the shock from jeongin's unexpected appearance, just sit there, unable to do much of anything what with your flu, just silently watching felix and jeongin form a panic attack circle jerk in your own house.

"enough!" jeongin raises his voice, which immediately shuts felix up. jeong has never raised his voice. you shoot felix a nervous look.

"i thought we were best friends," jeongin utters, the slightest hint of melancholy lacing his voice. he looks offended. you've never seen him look this offended, not even when he was accused of academic misconduct that one time. "i'm happy for you, ecstatic even! i swear i am, but really? why would you keep this for me for so long?"

you decide you should talk to him—felix is very clearly out of his depth when it comes to handling intense situations like this and he's only making jeongin feel worse with all the jabbering. you stand up from your seat on the table and walk over to him, taking your hands in his.

"i'm sorry, jeongin. we... we weren't entirely sure of how we were gonna do this," you tell him, almost in a whisper.

felix scratches the back of his neck, avoiding any and all eye contact with either of you. "we wanted to keep it quiet," he admits. "at first, at least."

you nod in agreement, and turn back to look at jeongin. "you were going to be the first person we would break the news to. not even our own parents, i swear," you divulge, while you spot felix in the corner of your eye making a silent crossed hearts gesture to double down on his sincerity. jeongin's once-tense features start to ease up a bit, but not entirely. "you are our best friend. we never want you to feel like this. we're sorry," you assure him, before pulling him into a bear hug. you feel felix join from behind you to make it a group hug.

"i don't care what you guys have going on, but don't keep any more secrets from me. got it?" your friend huffs after you all pull back, feigning some sort of authority. felix chuckles at how ridiculous he sounds—being the youngest of the three, the tone just sounds alien when it comes from him. "we would never," felix tells him, reaching out to give jeongin a firm pat on the back. "i think y/n might like you more than me anyway, they're always going, 'we should call jeongin! we should send him a photo! we should—"

your palm slaps against the lower half of your boyfriend's face in protest. "we might be dating but you're on thin ice," you glare at him, before he raises both hands to surrender.

jeongin jovially chimes in to break the tension: "can i just say, i've always felt like you'd get along. aren't you glad i introduced you to each other? you wouldn't be a thing if it weren't for me, ya know." felix and you just huff in response—he can have this.

[usmsgutterson]

We Could Leave The Christmas Lights Up Til January - S.R x reader

I am typing this authors note and feeling like the friend who's like "ITS CHRISTMAS" from the like. middle of the month forward when I'm actually the friend who reminds you how close it is to christmas or the new year bc I don't want to face that knowledge by myself and suffer well with others.

This was written as a through-the-years style fic. It'll have fifteen chapters which will correspond with the og fifteen seasons of criminal minds (I have not watched seasons sixteen or seventeen, please do not judge me lol) and three scenes per chapter, one set in November, one set on or around Christmas, and the last set at some point after it. The reader is also a fiber artist but if stuff relating to that comes up, I will make a note of whichever terms I need to.

Fic type - this is largely fluff!

Warnings - the reader in this has a slightly similar, but also somewhat dramatized version of my family dynamics bc I wrote this whenever the knit projects I was working on frustrated me and when writing the dynamics it just HAPPENED, but then I edited it so that the dynamics wouldn't hit SUPER HARD if I ever reread it. Otherwise, booze is mentioned a bit, and there is swearing present bc I apparently am incapable of writing a fic without dropping an f'bomb.

When you leave the office that night, it's half-past seven on a Friday in November. You and the rest of the team have the weekend off, and while Penelope and the others had gone out for drinks, you'd gotten back from a case in Miami that morning and had said no to the offer when she'd made it.

You had really just wanted to get home, if you were being honest. You told her you couldn't swing it because of plans already made with someone else, but Garcia didn't need to know that those plans were a glass of wine, Loops 'N Threads Classic Cotton and a crochet hook to work up some dishcloths in lieu of anything too expensive for your aunts christmas gift, or that the someone else you had plans with was your DVR so that you could catch up on the five episodes of Prison Break you'd missed because of the way that cases and work had been piling up.

She also didn't need to know that the wine your mother had given you would have a spot, or that after you were caught up with Prison Break you'd probably order and eat your way through an entire pizza from Antonios while watching a documentary about lemon sharks. Your Friday nights were your own, and even though you adored everyone on the team, you would seldom give up your Friday night ritual of doing a craft while watching whichever cable TV you needed to catch up on or whichever one the network of your choice had been running a marathon of, even if giving it up meant giving up dinner, drinks, and laughter amongst yourself and the rest of the team.

So, as you and Spencer are heading out—Spencer had declined Penelopes offer but hadn't specified his reasons as to why—he looks at you with a knowing sort of smile.

"Crocheting and Antonios?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

You nod once, lips pursing just a little while you mentally ready yourself for any oncoming judgement. "Mhm," you nod. "I have a bottle of red I wanna drink, so it'll be a tipsy crocheting night, I think."

"That sounds fun," he says. "Enjoy it."

"What're your plans for the night?" You ask. You've been with the team since six months after Spencer had joined up. You'd joined, under Hotch's wing, at the age of nineteen where Spencer had joined up under Gideons when he was twenty.

He shrugs. "I was thinking about calling my mom, seeing how she's doing," he says. "I try to call her at least once every so often and I do my best to write, but—it's just—"

"Maintaining those kinds of relationships isn't that easy," you nod. "I mean—my parents just live in my hometown so the circumstances are different, but I get it, even if it's to a lesser degree."

You don't really talk to your parents, and they don't really talk to you, and it's been that way since you went to the FBI Academy when you were eighteen. You came to DC after being hired by the BAU and they stayed in Maine, and things have been like that in the five years since you left the state.

"Your mom came around recently, right?"

You nod. "She was in town for a bit, but she came down while we were working on a case so I only got to see her a few times before she was heading back to Maine." She'd come up at the start of October, while you were working a case out of state, and she'd left six days after you'd returned from the case. In that time, you'd seen her at breakfast, lunch and dinner on three separate days. She'd left you the wine as a gift because she hated red and needed to pass it off, but you loved red wine so it was fine.

"Was it a good visit?"

"It was—well—it was fine," you laugh.

"That's the nicest way to put it?"

"Calling it fine is me being stellar," you laugh again. "Being kind, being gratiuitous, even. It was less than fine, but it could've been worse, and other visits of hers have been by miles."

Your relationship with your mother has been somewhat contentious since you were a teen, but she comes down once every few months and unless a case or something better comes up, you usually try to book Christmas off to spend it with your parents and sisters in Maine. This year, a bigger part of you than not is hoping that Christmas is disrupted by a case somewhere completely out of Maines reach, like Nevada or California or even the likes of Alaska, which has got to be some snowy hellstorm in the wintertime, though you can't say.

"You gonna go down for Christmas?" Spencer asks, laughing a little. He knows some of what your relationships with your family are like—knows that you and your mother have a difficult time finding common ground, knows that you and your father don't get along but have found some weird little middleground where you can exist without screaming at each other. He knows that you and your older sister are sort of friendly but only really mildly close, and that you and your other older sister don't talk often and see each other even less than the sparing conversations you have throughout the year—and he always looks at you kind of pitifully when your mother gets brought into the conversation, but there's been less and less pity as the years have passed, more sympathy.

"I don't want to," you laugh. "I really, really hope we get a case in Nevada or somewhere that even my mother wouldn't be able to justify asking me to drive down to Maine from. Like—I'd love it if we got a case in Alaska the day before Christmas Eve, honestly. I know it's not gonna happen, but—Christmas with them, my aunt, and my uncle? No. I can't subject myself to that without a whole lot of booze."

Spencer laughs, shakes his head a little bit. "You'll be fine," he says. "I won't hope that a case comes up at Christmas, but if one does, I'll buy you a victory tea."

"Why?"

"Because I know you love your family—you're hardwired to love them—but you hate Christmas with them, and I don't really like the thought of you being where you don't want to be because of family ties and guilt."

You laugh. "If it gets too dreary, promise you'll answer my call?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods. "Of course, but what if I call you first?"

"I will answer so quick," you laugh again, shrugging. "Seriously. Whether it's you or Hotch, I will take literally any excuse I can get to slip out from whichever room I'm in to the back porch just so I can talk to someone who isn't my aunt for a few minutes."

"Looking forward to that," Spencer says.

You smile, turning away as you do to hide it. It feels like an awesome ending to a mediocre day and you're grateful for that.

-

When your phone rings at five o'clock something along the lines of five weeks later, it's Christmas Eve. You've spent the last couple of hours alternating between cheap screw top rose and a jack and coke, occasionally swapping both options out for a hot chocolate that you spike with kahlua and a splash of baileys, and when your phone rings, the sound of it is a welcome reprieve.

You tuck a mug of boozed up hot cocoa into your right hand, answering the phone with your left as you dismiss yourself out to the back porch, standing amidst snow that's, by that point, a couple days old. A fresh coat is due to fall any day now, but by the time it does you'll probably already be back in DC.

"Hey," you greet. "How's Christmas on your end?"

"It's good," Spencer answers. "How is it on yours?"

"It's amazing."

"You've been drinking?"

"Jack Daniels, cheap rose, and the occasional spiked hot chocolate," you laugh a little. "It's making everyone more tolerable."

"Thats good," Spencer says. "Don't forget to drink water, though. It'll make you less hungover tomorrow morning."

"Yeah," you nod. "I've drank plenty of water—hangover headaches are fuckin' awful, and I don't feel like dealing with that tomorrow morning. A headache on top of dealing with my aunt? I couldn't put myself through that kind of torture."

"How've things been with you and your mom?"

"So far I haven't done anything to piss her off yet, which is surprising," you laugh. "Normally she's leaping down my throat the second I do something like use a tone that she thinks is amiss or defend my dad where she doesn't agree with him. I'll say something stupid and she'll yell at me before midnight though, I'm sure."

"Try to be a little optimistic," Spencer says. "I mean—just—take it easy. Don't do anything too nuts, okay? I know you well enough to know you have Prison Break on one of the DVRs in that house, and I also know that you know your own limits. Don't push yourself past them."

"I won't," you say. You know yourself well enough to know that you're probably lying, but you brought your needles and a skein of yarn so worst case you can just knit and keep your mouth shut, hopefully not miscounting any of your stitches in your drunken state. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I get in around ten on boxing day too, so—coffee?"

"Coffee," Spencer says. "Merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Merry Christmas, Spencer," you respond, hanging up the phone thereafter. You stay outside for another few minutes, drinking your hot chocolate, watching the sky and prolonging the time between then and your next interactions with your relatives.

Eventually, when you go back in, you're met with a sly look from your aunt and a suspicious look in your mothers eyes, while your father and uncle chat about current events and your sisters are busy in a game of Uno.

"You got a boyfriend?" Your aunt asks, her smile cheeky.

You grimace. "No!" You say, beelining for the kitchen and the bottle of Barefoot brand zinfandel. "No—it's—it isn't like that. A friend had planned to call and I didn't say no."

"Oooh, a friend," your mother teases. "That's quite vague, Y/N."

You nod, finishing the last sip of hot chocolate in your mug and rinsing it out, setting it in your favored corner of the kitchen counter and reaching for the wine glass you'd left in that same area.

"Intentionally so," you laugh. "You two are so nosy. I love you both to bits and pieces, but—it's not anything like what you're thinking. The friend is a coworker."

You reach for the bottle of zinfandel and pour an amount that just barely skirts the edge of avoiding being obscene, putting the cap back on and leaving it on the counter along with the rest of the alcoholic companions that will reside on the countertop until at some point tomorrow, when the drinks are switched out from booze and beer to soda and water.

"You two will be an item in five years, I guarantee it," your aunt says. "Seriously. You don't be vague about someone with your family unless there are feelings there, Y/N."

You laugh a little more, taking a sip of your wine and debating rummaging through the fridge to find the brownies that you'd hidden in the back of the fridge for when the drunken cravings kicked in.

"I've been vague with you people about women coworkers," you retort. "I've been vague about mentors who are older than Dad. I'm vague about lots of things."

"You should open up," your uncle says. "Nobody likes a closed off little snowflake who wants to appear mysterious."

"Trust is earned," the older of your two sisters retorts. "You have to trust people to want to open up to them."

"Do you not trust us?" Your mother asks, looking at you with pain in her eyes.

Not like I did when I was a kid, you think. "I do! I just—work life and family life are two separate things to me. If I were as open as you guys want me to be, telling you work stories and funny office anecdotes, you'd all want to hear less about my job."

"Being an FBI agent can't be that hard," your uncle retorts.

"You say that as a man who's never watched someone you love like a sibling get shot at," you retort. "You've never seen someones body missing parts, or seen someone who narrowly evaded a serial killer shaking with grief and with survivors guilt already starting to manifest. I love you all, but not one of you understands what it's like, and I wouldn't wish you did across a thousand lifetimes."

Nobody knows what to say, but the look in your eldest sisters eyes is clear—she's proud.

"Well maybe you should work in a different area," your aunt says.

"I wouldn't trade my job or my coworkers for anything," you respond. "The plus sides make up for the drawbacks tenfold."

Things go a little quiet after that, and you eventually grab the bottle of Zinfandel and retreat back out to the back porch, not caring how cold it is.

You stare at the sky for ages, drinking your way through the entire bottle of zinfandel as you do. You're half asleep when your phone rings again, and you pick it up as you make back inside, figuring the rest of your family had gone to bed as well.

"Hey," Spencer greets. "Just calling to check in again."

"Hi," you respond. "Everyone else has gone to sleep, I think—nobody is in the kitchen or the living room, and if I don't hit the hay I'll be dead on my feet tomorrow morning."

"Do you have any sports drinks around?" Spencer asks. "The elctrolytes in them will help replenish the potassium and the salt that you lose after a lot of drinking. Bouillion soup also serves the same purpose, and water is basically universally known as the one thing you should consistently drink between alcoholic beverages."

"My mother gets a twelve pack of the fruit punch Gatorade, puts it in the fridge and normally will make the drunkest of us chug a bottle before we conk out, so I'm gonna grab one and then chug it and head to bed. Thank you for calling to check in, Spencer. It means a lot."

You head for the fridge and keep to your word, opening it and grabbing one of the gatorades.

"It's no problem," Spencer says. "I've know you—how long now?"

"Four entire years," you laugh, closing the fridge and pressing your forehead against the metal door of the freezer on top of it. "Oh, God. Four years of working at the BAU. That is a surefire way to make me feel old."

"How old do you think you'll feel when you've been working there for a decade?"

"Absolutely, positively, ancient," you say. "Oh my God—thirty three? That is not an age I can picture. Asking me to picture that while I'm drunk feels like such a low blow, Reid."

"How about twenty-eight?"

"I'm starting to think you just like the sound of my voice," you retort, laughing a little as you compose yourself just enough to turn your phone onto speaker and set it on the counter. You lean against the counter and take the screw top off of your gatorade, sighing a little. "Are you asking me if I have a five year plan, Dr. Reid?"

"Yeah," he says. "Yes is the answer to both your statement and your question."

"Well, in five years, I'll be twenty-eight," you start. "I'd like it very much if I were still on the team, and if I am, that means nine years at the BAU. I'm going to get better at knitting and finally stop knitting things for people who don't offer to buy the yarn or otherwise compensate, I think. I make things free for ungrateful people too often. Maybe even adopt a kitten or take in a shelter dog. Fuck—Reid, I can't really even decide what I'm going to do in the next five minutes, let alone the next five years."

You chug the gatorade as you think about it—a bigger apartment would be nice, one that's closer to work would be nicer still. One with a good view of the city, maybe a library or a liquor store within walking distance, if not a Michaels or a Joanns.

You've always been more of a cat person but you have a ridiculously insurmountable softspot for greyhounds and pitbulls, so if you thought you could take in an animal in the coming years, you would have the knowledge and the background to give them a good home.

You'd maybe want to change up your hair color, if the drunken opportunity presented itself. A change in appearance feels like the sort of thing a person finds necessary at the age of twenty four, in the last year before the brain fully develops and stuff starts changing bit by bit.

"I think I'll still be on the team," Spencer says. "I know it. I love what we get to do everyday, Y/N. Helping people? Saving lives? We do good. We're good people."

"What else do you think about the next five years?" You ask, your voice quiet.

"I think I'll still be living in my same apartment, and that I'll still bicker and get into prank wars with Morgan," Spencer says. "I think I'll still play chess against Gideon on the jet home, and I'll still love to learn anything I can. I know for sure I'm still going to be trying to get you to watch Dr. Who with me, though I hope you agree to watch it after five years of attempts at cajoling you to."

You laugh, and the air takes on a somber kind of tone. "Maybe," you say. "Not likely, but maybe, Reid. Look—I'm going to go to bed so that I can just deal with tomorrows probable hangover head on, but thank you for calling me not once, but twice tonight. I really needed some company that wasn't a little bit of an asshole."

"Yeah, of course," Spencer says. "I—well—merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Spencer," is how you bid him adieu, hanging up the phone thereafter. You throw the gatorade bottle into the recycling and head off to the room you'd claimed, turning the tv onto a low volume and falling asleep with The Muppet Christmas Carol beginning to play in the background.

-

"How was everyones Christmas?" Garcia asks, practically buzzing with excitement as she comes out into the bullpen. Spencer is leaning against your desk, the two of you talking about nothing in particular when she comes around, and Garcia looks at you with a happy grin. "How was Maine?"

"It was Maine," you shrug. "Snowed. A lot. In turn, everyone in my family drank. A lot."

"Oh," Garcia shakes her head. "Too many people and too much booze is God awful."

You shrug. "My parents, my sisters, and my aunt and my uncle hardly felt like too many," you say. "And the amount of booze in which I indulged hardly felt like too much."

"You had a lot," Spencer retorts, looking at you skeptically. "I got a text Christmas morning, if memory serves—"

"A text to thank you for being so nice," You fire back, cutting him off. "Totally not asking you for hangover cures. I would never."

Spencer shakes his head, laughing slightly. You grin, taking a sip of the tea he'd brought you that morning.

"Yeah," he says. "I didn't get a text asking for the ultimate hangover cure-all. I guess I must've remembered it wrong."

Your grin widens, and you nod. "Guess so. How were things with your Mom?"

"They were great," Spencer says. "I had a good time."

"I'm glad," you respond. "Your mother sounds pleasant."

"She is," Spencer nods. "I'd hate to spend more than an hour with yours though."

"She's comin' here in June," you fire back, leaning back in your chair as your grin morphs from grin to smirk. "Be careful for the next six months, Reid, or I'll invite you to dinner with her, myself, and my father."

"That sounds like some form of mideval torture," Derek fires, laughing. Spencer shakes his head.

"Not if Y/Ns there," he murmurs. You take another sip of your tea to avoid seeming flustered to the rest of the team, and Spencer sighs when JJ comes around. You sit up in your chair, already anticipating her next words.

"We have a case," she says. "A series of deaths in Witchita. Briefing room in ten!"

You and Spencer exchange a look. There are only a few days left of it, but it looks like the last of 2005 is due to be a whirlwind.

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

𓇻 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗗 ᶜᵃⁱᵗˡʸⁿ ᵏⁱʳᵃᵐᵃⁿ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Shortfic. Romantic Comedy. Established relationship, kinda. You and Caitlyn have been dating for months and have an amazing, steady relationship. Apparently, she did not know this. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; I thought this would be simple and cute concept. I also need to stop writing so much about Ambessa, she's literally a BIG portion of my masterlist..

11.28.24 Masterlist

It was the middle of a quiet afternoon at your favorite café. Caitlyn sat across from you, her usual order of tea steaming gently in the delicate porcelain cup. She was talking about an ongoing case, her words precise and thoughtful, her elegant fingers occasionally gesturing to emphasize a point. You nodded along, only half-listening as you admired the way the sunlight caught in her dark hair and lit her sharp blue eyes.

This was yet another simple and personal date. One of many you've been on together, you couldn't have been any happier when she first invited you.

In your mind, this was just another moment in your relationship. You and Caitlyn had been spending time like this for months now—frequent dinners, shared moments and memories in her office, long walks through Piltover’s streets. The way she always held doors open for you, the small gifts she brought back from trips, the soft smiles meant only for you—all of it felt unmistakably romantic.

So when she suddenly stopped speaking, her gaze flickering nervously to her cup, you leaned forward, concern blooming in your chest.

“Caitlyn?” you prompted gently, concerned. You suppose all the talk about the growing cases may be stressing her out more than you realize.

You were quick to think about activities to help destress, maybe a romantic eventing on a—

You stopped as you realized she moved, ever so slightly.

She hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly around the cup’s handle. her lips pursed tightly as she averted your eyes fora moment. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she said, her voice quieter than usual.

Her gaze slowly trailed up the table, her eyes slowly meeting yours. A small, determined look on her face appeared.

You smiled, trying to ease her nerves. “You know you can tell me anything, Caitlyn.”

Her lips curved in a faint smile, though it quickly faded. She took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her words tumbled out in a rush.

“I like you. More than a friend should. I—well, I think I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air between you, and you blinked, your mind racing to catch up. It took a moment for the meaning to settle, and when it did, a startled laugh escaped you.

“Wait, you think?” you teased lightly, trying to mask the confusion swirling in your chest.

You thought this was one of Caitlyn's shy— and sometimes awkward— moments, a cute quirk you've come to indulge in.

Caitlyn frowned, her cheeks flushing a faint pink. “I’m serious,” she said, her tone earnest and a little defensive. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you for weeks. I know this might come as a surprise, but—”

“Caitlyn,” you interrupted, your brow furrowing. “What do you mean, a surprise? We’ve been dating for months.”

The silence that followed was almost comical.

You both stared at each other, both taking turns slowly blinking. You could swear you heard the gears turning in her head.

Caitlyn froze, her eyes widening as she processed your words. “We’ve been… what?”

Your confusion deepened.

“Dating,” you repeated slowly, as if the word itself might clear up the misunderstanding. “Haven’t we?”

She stared at you, her expression a mixture of shock and dawning realization. “I—no, I didn’t realize. I thought we were just…” She trailed off, her voice faltering.

“Just what?” you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

“Friends,” she admitted, looking thoroughly flustered. “Close friends.”

You blinked at her, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to form a coherent response. The past few months flashed through your mind: the quiet dinners where she insisted on paying, the lingering touches, the way she always made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

“How could you think we were just friends?” you asked, your tone incredulous. “We kissed— We had dinner with your parents—”

Caitlyn’s blush deepened, and she looked down at her tea. “Well, yes, but I thought—”

“You’ve held— been— holding my hand.”

“I thought you were being… supportive,” she said weakly.

“Supportive?” you echoed, your voice rising slightly.

“Look,” she said, holding up her hands in a placating gesture, “I didn’t want to assume. You’re important to me, and I didn’t want to risk ruining things if I misread—”

“You didn’t misread anything.” You interrupted quickly, not a beat missed, your tone exasperated.

Caitlyn bit her lip, her expression sheepish. “I suppose, in hindsight, it seems rather obvious.”

You leaned back in your chair, shaking your head in disbelief. “You really didn’t know?”

She met your gaze, her own filled with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “I didn’t,” she admitted, her lips quirking into a small smile. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’m thrilled to know we’ve been on the same page… even if I didn’t realize it.”

Despite yourself, you laughed, the tension draining from your shoulders. “Caitlyn, you’re unbelievable.”

She reached across the table, her fingers brushing against yours in a gesture that felt both familiar and new. “Does this mean you’ll forgive me for being utterly oblivious?”

You smiled, lacing your fingers with hers. “Only if you promise to stop calling me your ‘friend.’”

Her laugh was soft, her thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. “Deal,” she said, her voice warm. “Though, for the record, I prefer ‘partner.’”

You realized, you could never see yourself with anyone but Caitlyn Kiraman.

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

[rockscanfly]

@noshirdalal's cameo response to the following prompt:

Before the gang breaks apart and Arthur gets sick, what does a happy future look like to Charles? Has he ever even thought that far ahead at that point? Based off the scene in Shady Belle at the campfire when he discusses how trapped he feels in the cycle of violence that's been his life up until that point, Charles has struggled with thoughts of suicide in the past. Is there a point before the end of the epilogue where he's found hope? Charles seems the type of person to throw himself into becoming whatever the people he cares about needs in that moment. Before leaving Beecher's Hope for Canada, is there something he's wanted for himself?

Once again, Noshir blew my expectations out of the water and left me with even more questions than before. Does Charles hesitate to start a family when he hears what happened to the Marstons? Does he end up tracking down Jack, picking up yet another obligation from a fallen brother?

Does he ever find a way from under the curse he believes follows him, or does John's death and Jack's heel-turn into the life finally crush that hope out of him? Is that when Sadie re-enters his life?

I'm so grateful Noshir opened up his cameo to talk about Charles and his headcanons and I encourage everyone else to go throw questions of their own his way.

Full transcript of the video below the read more:

(/transcript start) Rocks, hi! What a beautiful question, and I’ve been thinking about my answer a lot. 

So, you’re right. I mean, Charles has had a really hard life. A really hard life. You know, the people dearest to him when he was little were either taken from him or completely failed him. And his life has been hard ever since. And I think that he’s done a lot of stuff that he’s not proud of in an effort to survive and to find his way. And violence is always kind of peering over his shoulder. You know, he can feel it there. 

But for all that, I would actually counter that the central pillar of who Charles is, like the thing that makes him who he is—is hope. 

I read somewhere once that true courage is having the worst day of your life and putting your head on the pillow and telling yourself ‘tomorrow will be better’. I think Charles has had many, many, many nights like that. 

Because I think that if he didn’t have that hope he would despair. And then I think he would surrender to the, you know. Kind of base urge to just do whatever you need to to come out on top. And I think if Charles ever felt that he’d be a terrifying dude. A terrifying guy. And I think he fights that urge every day. 

That’s really astute what you said about, kind of you know, he—he kind of takes on and fulfills whatever role it is the people around him need him to be. I think that’s very fair to say. And I think we most see that in Beecher’s Hope. 

Because, Charles’ best friend gives up his life to ensure that John has the chance at a new life. And I think when Charles learns how things went down he doesn’t even really kind of consciously register, but he just picks up that, that obligation, right? He inherits it from his friend where he fell and vows to see it through. 

And so he does, you know, he helps John build a home and a new life, right, a new start. 

Imagine everything they’ve been through, all the things they’ve done, and then having the audacity. The courage to say, you know, no, I’m not gonna. I’m not gonna let my son be a part of this cycle. I’m gonna break this chain and give him the chance to know an honest hard day’s work without ever looking over his shoulder for the law or the people that he’s wronged. 

I think Charles would do everything in his power to help John realize that life because if he can help John do that it means that its possible for him as well. And I think he leaves Beecher’s Hope fully convinced that, like. They’ve done it. If John can walk this path, like. Jack will never know a life like Charles and John and Arthur knew. What a gift. 

Charles’ father may have failed him. But in John, Charles gets to see what a father could be. And in his own way he gets to be a, a part of that. 

So I think he, he leaves Beecher’s Hope and heads to Canada thinking, you know: ‘Maybe I can do it, too. I can go somewhere where no knows me, find my people, and tomorrow will be better.’

Which is probably why it just kills me that at some point he would hear about what happened to John. 

‘Cause, I think, for all that hope Charles has a really hard time with being happy and with being at peace. I think when things are good with the gang is when Charles is most nervous, because that other shoe is gonna drop, right? That's how his life has always gone. When things go well, disaster is right around the corner. And so I, I’m sure like, when literally like when the gang is celebrating I think Charles oftentimes isn’t there because he’s off walking the perimeter or scouting around. He’s literally looking for that storm that’s coming. It's just in his nature. 

Oh, it would break his heart to know that everything Arthur did, everything he did, everything John did to keep Jack out of it—it wasn’t enough. 

(/transcript end)

[howdyfriend]

wheee thank you june!! haven't done one of these in a while :)

Hi! I'm Howdy!

What's something you're really passionate about, and how did you discover it?

Forensic science, specifically forensic taphonomy and entomology. I first discovered it after taking a forensics course online in high school, and fell in love with the science of the above fields. I love how they work together and what they can tell you about the deceased in an investigation. Super fascinating.

What's your favourite way to spend your weekend or free time?

Recently it's been hopping on criticality acclaimed mmorpg Final Fantasy XIV lol. I have a free company full of people who are lots of fun to chat and play with so I'm usually there hanging out with them :) If not I'm trying to schedule hanging out with friends, going to the library, baking, drawing, reading, playing with my dog, or listening to music.

What's a piece of advice or quote that has stuck with you throughout the years?

I can't say there's any singular bit of advice that sticks with me. I am a collection of a lot of advice given in a lot of different directions. It's hard picking out just one 😅.

What's your go-to comfort food or drink when you're feeling down?(Bonus points if you include a recipe)

Spaghetti and meatballs and a London fog :)

I make everything from scratch for my spaghetti (sometimes even the pasta itself!), so that's a bit too complex for one post. London fog is easy tho.

1. Steam some milk

2. Steep earl grey tea in a small amount of water (about a quarter cup)

3. Combine in mug of choice. Leave bag in mug for extra steeping.

4. Add sweetener, I use a spoon of vanilla syrup.

5. Froth milk and done!

What's the most meaningful gift you've ever given or received?

I'm going to pick based on objective use rather than sentimentality because if I get into that I start feeling guilty about picking one gift over another lol. In terms of objective use, my laptop. It's been great for school and games and connecting with friends :). I'm learning a lot on how to fix it myself as well, so I feel like im fighting back against things like planned obsolescence in my own little way.

BONUS: What's one little fun fact about you that most people don't know about?

hmmmmmm. swallowed a toonie once. don't do that it's not fun. I had to go to the ER. idk I share a lot. I don't have much else, lol

tagging no one cause im lazy <3 thank you june, love you and miss you lots, let me know when your free days are id love to come up and visit.

Tag Game!!

I thought it'd be fun to make a tag game for everyone, so here's my version!!

alongside this picrew, and 2 pictures you think describes you, answer some questions about yourself.

What’s something you’re really passionate about, and how did you discover it?

What’s your favorite way to spend a weekend or free time?

What’s a piece of advice or a quote that has stuck with you over the years?

What’s your go-to comfort food or drink when you’re feeling down? (Bonus points if you can give a recipe)

What’s the most meaningful gift you’ve ever given or received

Bonus: What’s a random fun fact about yourself that most people don’t know?

i'll go first

I'm Alyssa!

What’s something you’re really passionate about, and how did you discover it?

Mythology! I've been super into mythology in general since I was in middle school, and i can just talk about it for hours. I first discovered it when my friend forced me to read Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson series, and it spiraled from there.

What’s your favorite way to spend a weekend or free time?

Most of the time I have to take extra classes during weekends, but other than that I read whenever I can! Be it a physical copy, a pdf or even fanfiction I spend most of my time reading. But when I can find some time for myself I either write or make bracelets. Sometimes I work on my ocs' lore with my friend, so it really depends on how busy I am at that moment.

What’s a piece of advice or a quote that has stuck with you over the years?

My mom once told me "If someone isn't willing to value you or your efforts, don't waste your time on them. Don't give your all to people who won't do the same." And while it sounds mean at first, it's actually helped me over the years.

What’s your go-to comfort food or drink when you’re feeling down? (Bonus points if you can give a recipe)

Sütlaç has been one of my top comfort foods for years now. It's a Turkish dessert made with rice, milk and sugar (and cinnamon, honey or nuts if i'm feeling fancy) Though sometimes i make cookies instead!

What’s the most meaningful gift you’ve ever given or received?

I made over 300 paper stars in a sitting for my friend, each star representing a day i'd have known her on her birthday. I chose paper stars because they meant a lot to her. I also got her a (plastic) rose because she told me she thought she'd never get flowers from anyone.

Bonus: What’s a random fun fact about yourself that most people don’t know?

I used to be afraid of dogs when I was younger. The reason was because my granddad had a little dog that loved running around. Whenever we went to visit my grandparents the little thing would chase me around the garden until one of us dropped because of exhaustion. I think this was my first childhood trauma.

Tagging (no pressure!) : @romaritimeharbor , @kopivie , @ruruumin , @strxnged , @femivi +

@mlkbwunnies , @aureusveill , @milk-violet , @camvrin , @strryskys + anyone who would like to join!

[dreamyeyedrose]

you won't believe half the things I see inside my head wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened...yet

[hella1975]

i have such a reputation that four separate people incorporated pringles into my birthday gifts. be that girl

[savage-rhi]

💀

[rubberduckyrye]

Man. That Feel When I want to be feral and reveal a bad experience I've had and reveal the person who took my money and kind of ran with it but. Is it worth starting drama over?

I was just thinking about it tbh...

Well I'll say this much: A rather popular DR person (at the time, idk what they're fully up to now) pretty much took over $100.00 from me and ghosted me. I tried to commission them for something but. Well. Again, they just ghosted me. Haven't been able to enjoy their work since they did.

And to note: It was not an artist or fanfic author. I'm not elaborating on this further, but I don't want to feel like I HAVE to keep silent in order to feel like I'm not mud-slinging or people to speculate on innocent people. This is a years-old event that just crops up once in a while and I get upset about it.

So yeah. Bleck.

[skeletalheartattack]

happy almost birthday :o)

:) thank you!!! there's gonna be a bounce castle at my birthday party and every body is invited

[anadorablekiwi]

12 year old Kiwi would simultaneously be Very Very Disappointed and also Very Proud

[entropys]

:-) things are getting better september truly is a month of new beginnings