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jhilsara · 18 days

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The Midnight Owl

Summary: After Spencer is shot he can't do much in the field for a while, being stuck to the offices in Quantico. His insomnia starts to amp up and instead of an urge for McDonald's at 1 AM he finds himself desperate for a new book and a coffee. Somehow, he finds the Midnight Owl, the late night bookstore/cafe open at weird hours with a cute southern co owner who probably gets the same amount of sleep as he does.

She also makes the best coffee that is disgustingly sweet. Exactly how he likes it.

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: Mentions of Season 5 100 episode and canon typical BAU themes

Artwork and beta read by @aninaska

The one with the late night bookstore

If Spencer could pace, he would, but his new semi-permanent crutch situation was impeding his mobility. He hasn’t been able to sleep, much less relax with the knowledge of Hotch being stabbed by George Foyet in his own home. Or how it’s clear that he’s playing an extreme game with the BAU, but mostly Hotch. Spencer didn’t even want to think about poor Haley and Jack being thrown into witness protection. These were scenarios Spencer knew came with the job he does, but seeing it happen to people he knows and cares about, makes his stomach churn. He couldn’t imagine if it was his own mother being threatened. It sends a cold chill down his back. He needs a distraction.

Spencer’s eyes drag over to his used and abused bookshelf. Looking through his collection trying to find something to read. Even for a distraction he’s not very interested in rereading any of the texts on his shelf. His go to comfort of Sherlock Holmes doesn’t even seem all that appealing at the moment. He needs something that isn’t about criminals or detectives right now. Too bad nothing else on his shelf seemed to catch his eye. Spencer eyes his clock and the analog clock on his wall tells him it’s two in the morning. He’d be lucky if anything besides a dingy twenty-four-hour cafe was open, much less a bookstore.

He sighs and looks over at his discarded laptop on his desk. He boots it up to see if maybe he could at least check how early the library opened. He could try to sleep but his insomnia was eating away at him, trying to focus on anything else but work seems harder and harder. Spencer had to get out of his apartment. He looks up the library hours as well as a few bookstores. Just trying to see how soon he could sit down and avoid the never-ending running in his brain. He’s surprised when he finds a bookstore that was advertising its hours as open. Surely that was wrong. He spots the phone number on the webpage, and he decides to call to double check.

The line rings for roughly two seconds before it’s picked up, a melodic voice on the other line states, “Midnight Owl, this is Margaux how can I help you?” The cadence of the woman’s voice much too chipper for the middle of the night.

Spencer’s shocked into silence for a moment before he responds, “I thought the hours posted were wrong...” He finds himself stating.

“Nope!” She replies, unbothered by his blunt response. “We’re open 24/5, only closed on Fridays and Saturdays!” She tells him brightly, “You wouldn’t be the first to call thinking we posted our hours wrong though. More common than you think.”

He coughs awkwardly and finds himself nodding even though she can’t see it. “Okay, great, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem, swing by some time we have the best drinks crafted by yours truly!” She jokes with a soft laugh trailing her sentence. She drawls out the end of her words in a way that has them twisting together as sweet as the tea he’s almost positive she drinks.

“Have a good night.” He states before hanging up the phone.

He looks at the address listed and finds that it’s just up the street, barely a block away.

Spencer eyes his crutches for a moment debating on whether he should go or not. His good leg shakes in anxious movements as he sits on his couch. What were the odds that there was a bookstore up his block that was open at odd hours that catered to him? He knew the odds; they were incredibly low . He shrugs to himself and hobbles to grab his crutches, he’ll check it out. Why the hell not? If it’s too good to be true he can add it to the list of places he’ll never visit again like that one coffee shop downtown that burns everything he’s ever ordered.

He desperately needs to get out of his apartment.

Margaux's night at the Midnight Owl was going slowly. She had a few of her regulars wander in, which she was happy for since they had only officially been open for four months. There was a couple that sat on the loveseat in the cafe every Thursday night reading their books together and drinking the cafe’s famous homemade lavender lemonade. Not that she could brag about it, her co-owner makes pastries and premade drinks. All homemade family recipes. On the opposite side of the store was the guy who came in every other day to check for anything new. He grabs a coffee and roams the stacks for an hour. Sometimes he buys, sometimes he doesn’t. He comes in at the same time though, so Margaux thinks he works a graveyard shift.

There were a couple of students at a table in the cafe section clearly up studying and writing papers. The semester for school had only just started a month ago, but the influx of students coming and going was increasing by the day.

She loved her little bookstore, and during the day they were popping. A rising trendy place for local university students. Margaux preferred the quiet of the nights though. It gave her time to make orders for books, restock, and change out displays. It was the methodical cleaning and sorting that kept her sane. Margaux’s daytime life was overly complicated and having her own corner of the world was nice. It felt like a safe bubble that didn’t necessarily feel like work.

She’s in the middle of compiling a list of books to reorder that have already sold out when the front doorbell chimes telling her someone just entered. She’s behind a stack finishing what she's writing on her notepad when she calls out, “Be right there!”

She bounds around the stack to the counter to meet the newcomer, “Welcome in! How can I help you?” she asks happily pushing her short hair behind her ear nervously.

She scans the guy from head to toe, he’s definitely new. He looks like a grad student, probably around her age. His mousy brown hair is tied back into a low ponytail and he’s in a well-worn Caltech shirt and sweatpants. The oddest thing about him is the crutches he’s sporting as he comes in. Margaux sends him a warm smile.

Spencer looks at the woman standing at the counter and finds she is not what he expected her to be. She looks like the moon; her round face is framed by dark midnight hair that hits just above her shoulders. It almost looks like it’s reflecting blue under the warm ambient light of the bookstore. Her dark blue eyes are like the ocean as they meet his hazel forest ones. Spencer almost loses his train of thought as he takes in the bookstore worker’s soft round features that just made her seem so inviting.

It takes a second before he registers that she asked him a question. “Oh, yes,” he rushes out awkwardly. “Is the cafe still open?” He questions, tilting his head to the empty-looking bar on the other side.

Margaux nods happily, “It is! I’m the only one who works the night shift, so I run the register and the cafe. Would you like something?” she asks him, already walking toward the counter that holds the cabinet of pastries and coffee machines.

“A latte would be great actually.” He says in a much clearer voice.

“Can do.” She grins at him radiantly and it’s so infectious he finds himself returning one to her. She turns and almost has a skip to her step as she walks, far too awake for him to deem reasonable for two in the morning.

Spencer watches her as he slowly moves forward on his crutches, she almost dances around the machines as she makes his latte. She’s humming to the music that he’s finally registered playing in the bookstore. She’s radiating a warmth that Spencer doesn’t get to see much day to day except for the one and only, Penelope Garcia. Garcia looked and acted like the sun, one giant ball of pink and blonde energy. He watches Margaux move around her workstation making his latte and it’s seamless how she moves, it’s her second nature. She’s just at ease here, which settles his uneasy nerves about trying a new place out in the middle of the night. He looks around and sees a few people mingling about.

Spencer takes time to look around the store and notices how it feels much more lived in than any box stores he’s been to. The overhead lights aren’t fluorescent like a normal store but a few well-placed wooden chandeliers that are carved to look like vines. Every other light is a floor light or table lamp that has mismatched covers and stained glass. He turns to the large windows, and he guesses the store probably gets great sunshine when it’s daylight. The multiple house plants by the window and on the empty tables being a good indicator. The ambiance is so inviting, not to mention the amount of comfortable faux leather seating he sees.

He could imagine spending a lot of time here, it was just so cozy. Spencer can’t imagine he would have missed this place opening but with all the cases they’ve been busy with, he actually isn’t surprised at all.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by her placing the drink on the pickup bar, “So what ails you?” Her voice carries to him and her head is tilted as she looks at him expectantly.

“Excuse me?” He finds himself stuttering out.

She shrugs nonchalantly, “Well, it’s the middle of the night and I’ve never seen your face in here before.” She states the facts like it's so obvious.

“So, what’s buggin’ you?” Her voice drawls out sweetly as she looks at him expectantly.

It’s almost like the lights in the cafe frame her from behind, bright and dazzling. She’s clearly personable and Spencer isn’t used to people with Margaux's personality being overtly kind to him. He’ll see how long it takes her to dismiss him like most people do. It doesn’t annoy him like it used to, he expects it really. Especially when his own team and friends do it almost regularly.

She’s waiting patiently for his response with unwavering kind eyes.

“Insomnia,” He settled on admitting to her, he gave her a tight lined frown. “I needed a new book; I’ve read through my catalog.”

Margaux’s eyes light up, “That’s my specialty! I mean, I make a mean latte, but my favorite part of this place is the books.” She whispered conspiratorially.

“So,” She comes around from the back of the bar and puts her hands on her hips, “What genre were you looking for? Or was it a specific book?” She asks him.

“Fantasy, preferably. I’ve read all of Tolkien and Gaiman’s works.” He tells her.

She nods in understanding her blue eyes giving a quick look of him from head to toe, “You look like a man who’s read The Hobbit and American Gods .” She said, almost more so to herself.

Spencer gives her a quizzical look, unsure if he should be insulted or not. Margaux reads his face and her own cheeks flush with embarrassment. Her hands start moving exaggeratedly as her voice pitches, “Not in a bad way! I promise, I’m here for a well read person! Not that you have to have read those two authors to be well read, I just-” She takes a deep breath and stops herself.

“Sorry, I just mean, you look like you’ve probably read some of the most popular titles in that genre.” Her voice grows smaller, and her face is bright in a flush as she was rushing through her words, drawling out her words in that voice that sounds like sugar. She bites the inside of her cheek forcing herself to stop talking.

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head, “I get it, you’re good.” He tells her reassuringly.

She sighs in relief, pushing her bangs out of her face nervously, “Sorry, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant you probably want something different and not recommended every time you ask for fantasy.”

Spencer just gives her a smile, “I appreciate it.” He shifts his weight on his crutches to awkwardly sip his latte.

Margaux ushers him over to one of the comfortable chairs with a nice side table lamp that has beautiful green and red stained-glass roses on it.

“Here sit, I’ll grab some recommendations, and you can let me know what you think.” She doesn’t even give Spencer a chance to rebuttal before she’s off and disappears into the stacks.

The silence that followed her absence was overwhelmingly loud, except for the soft music playing from the speakers. Spencer takes his time drinking his latte and it’s delicious. Better than the place the BAU grabs coffee from, and much better than whatever was in their coffee pot at the office.

Margaux pops back out from the stacks within ten minutes holding at least five book options for him to sort through.

“These all have different sub-genres but are fantasy in nature. Let me know if any look good to you.” She hands them over to him happily. He notices her biting the inside of her cheek again, as she watches him look over the books.

Margaux’s rocking on her feet, as she watches Spencer thumb through the books, reading the summaries keeping his face neutral. She’s picking at her nails trying to not seem like a dog waiting. She should busy herself with something else besides trying to gauge Spencer’s reaction to the books, but she can’t help it.

Spencer pauses on a book with a bright colorful cover that was in the middle of the stack. It’s the only one he pauses on and Margaux’s face lights up.

“I loved Howl’s Moving Castle !” Her voice pitches up in enthusiasm. She starts talking with her hands again, “It’s fun, and the cast of characters who, in a magical world, feel so relatable. The two leads also have great dialogue! I was genuinely laughing out loud.” Margaux’s face is split into a grin as she explains the book to Spencer without spoiling anything.

She’s so filled with joy as she talks about the book, it doesn’t take him but a second of listening to her to know he’s sold. He’s reading this, her genuine joy selling him on it. He doesn’t have to look through the rest of the stack, though he’s sure she’s likely read all the books she offered him.

“I’ll take it.” He said, moving to stand up to purchase it at the counter.

She moves to stop him, “Don’t worry about it! You can pay on your way out. You look like you’ve been struggling with those crutches.” She tells him waving him back down to sit.

“Just relax, drink and read. It’s what the Midnight Owl’s for.” She chirps happily shooting him a triumphant look as she moves to walk back to the counter.

Margaux goes back to working on creating an order for books back at the checkout counter. She has the work desktop open back to the list of books she was cross referencing for prices. She goes back and forth from looking at her handwritten list to researching prices from different distributors.

The couple who was there earlier finally get up, waving goodbye to Margaux.

“Have a great night y’all! See you next week.” she tells them with her own wave that’s brief as she makes her order.

The only noise in the store is some shuffling and the music playing overhead and Margaux humming along to it. It’s a mix CD she burned a few years back and most of the songs are still her favorite. She keeps meaning to make a new one, but she just hasn’t had time. Her eyes wander from her computer to check on her new customer reading. She doesn’t want to hover, but she is trying to gauge if he’ll be a regular or not. She hopes so, he seemed nice enough.

Spencer can feel her eyes on him occasionally, he can see her fidgeting behind the counter. Every other song he can spot her leaning out of the corner of his eye to look over to him. He tries to hide his grin; he knows that look well. She’s trying to see if he’s enjoying the book. Spencer tries to read at a normal pace, even though he can read twenty thousand words per minute, that defeats the purpose of him trying to get out of his apartment to just devour this book. Plus, he kind of enjoys watching the store clerk.

She’s full of energy and he has no idea where it comes from, but it’s almost a nervous energy. She’s constantly moving, either fidgeting or walking through the stacks to check or tidy the books. She’s also passed in front of him a few times to check the cafe machines or even grab a pastry he’s sure has been there for too long, and she feels bad about selling it.

Spencer stays there for a few hours; he really doesn’t notice how long until the door opens and the bell chimes again.

“Morning!” The new woman cheers sleepily.

Margaux waves at her, “Morning Josie. There are still a few pastries left from yesterday, but I put them in the back fridge for you.”

The new woman waved back, “Thanks, I’m going to prep for today.”

Spencer finally looks at the time and realizes it’s five in the morning, he sighs standing up. He grabs his crutches and pushes himself toward the counter to pay for his book. If he’s lucky he could get an hour or two of a nap before work.

He gently slides the book over to her and her whole face brightens, “Have you liked it so far?” she asks him.

Spencer grins “It’s charming. You were right about the cast, it’s a great blend of characters that shouldn’t fit as well as they do together.”

Margaux’s nodding excitedly. “I don’t know if you’ve gotten to a certain part, but I won’t spoil it, I loved how they explain the magic that affects Sophie! It was a fun book.”

Spencer hands over some cash to pay for his book. “I’ve liked it so far. I’ll have to ask for another recommendation.” He tells her.

If Margaux was a dog, her ears would be pointed up and tail wagging, she cannot contain her pure joy.

“Absolutely! Anytime, it’s one of my favorite things.” She pushes her dark hair back and she looks down at the table nervously pushing his book back toward him with his change.

“I’m always happy to see a returning face.” She said looking up at him, her indigo eyes sparkling. “I’m Margaux by the way, I don’t know if I introduced myself.”

Spencer takes the book and his change; she smiles brilliantly at him, and he feels a little enchanted by the bookstore clerk. He returns it. “Spencer. It was nice to meet you.”

He gives her a small wave before walking out, crutches pushing him forward.

The one about Halloween

Margaux has decided that she does not care if it’s only September, she is decorating for Halloween. Maybe it’s that she’s festive or maybe it’s from growing up in a southern community that went all out for decorations, but she is determined that the Midnight Owl will be the place to be for October. She’s also planned a few events for the spooky month for all ages.

She has a few reading hours planned for children during the day, costume contests, and some trick or treat candy lined up to buy. Her shopping list was filling up quickly. For the nighttime events she’s gotten together with Josie to throw a movie night every Sunday night at eight in October. She’s already planned a lineup of movies to play and popcorn to order. Margaux still can’t decide on having two movies or not, a family friendly one first and then a scary one. She’ll figure it out.

To say she’s bubbling with excitement is an understatement.

She was in the middle of dragging out one of the boxes of decorations from the attic when the door chimes open.

“Welcome in! Help yourself to shop or if you wait a few minutes, I can fix you a drink at the cafe!” She shouts from behind the large box she's carrying. It’s not heavy, filled mostly with paper and plastic decorations. The box itself is just quite large and it blocks her view when she’s walking.

“What are you doing?” A soft chuckle passes through, and she recognizes it immediately. It’s her new favorite regular.

She sets the box down in a huff behind her counter and looks at Spencer exasperatedly.

“If you must know, I’m preparing for Halloween.” She said matter-of-factly.

Spencer’s hazel eyes light up, the same way he gets when he’s about to tell her a long list of facts about something. She loves it when he gets excited. It’s contagious.

“Oh, please continue then. It’s never too early for Halloween.” He said happily.

Margaux let out a burst of laughter and it echoes in the room, “Thank you! Finally, someone who understands.” She teases him.

Spencer’s been coming in almost every night since his first visit. It’s only been a month, but Margaux loves talking to Spencer. He’s full of endless information and he loves to read just as much, if not more, than she does.

He has an unfair advantage though. He had admitted how quickly he could read to her in passing a few weeks ago and her jaw dropped. She didn’t believe him at first.

“Okay, that’s the fifth book you’ve finished in like two days Spencer. Are you even actually reading them?” Margaux had teased him, when he returned to the shelves looking through her selections.

“Of course I do. I just happen to read twenty thousand words per minute.” He said easily running his fingers along the spines of the books as he pursues.

Margaux scoffs, “Yea right.” She rolled her eyes. “Just say you skim through them.”

Spencer shakes his head, “I’m serious, I have an eidetic memory too.” he tells her.

She blinked at him a few times in disbelief before just bursting into a fit of small giggles.

“Wow, I wish I could read that fast. I’d get through my TBR so much faster!” She said impressed.

Spencer pauses looking at her, trying to assess if she’s trying to make fun of him or not. Her face is split into a wide grin, and he realizes she is intrigued by this little tidbit. She didn't think it was weird, that he’s weird.

Spencer felt his face flush a bit, and he just shrugged it off. “It’s not a big deal.”

“No, it’s just a really cool fact about you.” She said like it was obvious.

Spencer mouth tighten into a fine line, and he shook his head, “That would be a first.” he had mumbled under his breath.

She didn’t press him, but she did file away in the back of her mind his response for later. Clearly Spencer wasn’t used to someone reacting positively to this tidbit about him.

Margaux looks at Spencer as he stands there watching her. He’s in his work clothes, which she’s used to by now, but it’s the opposite of what he wore when they first met. He’s in a purple button up shirt that he’s rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. His cardigan is hanging off his faded brown leather satchel sitting against his hip. He’s leaning on his crutches as she assesses him.

“C’mon,” she says waving for him to follow her. “Let’s make something fall flavored to get rolling with the season.” She suggested a small smile tugging at her lips.

Spencer just nods and follows her toward the cafe section.

“Are you a fan of pumpkin flavors or do you prefer other autumn flavors?” She asked him as she walked around the counter to the coffee machines.

The pickup counter for the cafe doubles as a normal place to sit and Spencer grabs a stool to sit in, leaning his crutches against the counter.

“I only like my drinks sweet. Flavor isn’t too important.”

She hums in acknowledgement and gets to work on making him a drink. “I’ll just surprise you then.”

Spencer brings out a few books he’s reading and places them on the table. While Margaux’s making his drink she asks him, “What’s your favorite book to read to get into the spooky spirit?”

He perks up, “There’s plenty of options, I think I prefer something classic like The Shinning or maybe even an old compilation of ghost stories. Those are always good.” he said passionately.

“Ooh! I’m obsessed with the paranormal!” She gasped in excitement.

Spencer feeds into the enthusiastic response, “Did you know there are a multitude of categories of the paranormal? Most people only associate it with ghosts or demons, but ufology and cryptozoology are also subcategories. Personally, as interesting as ghost or demon possession stories are, I’m far more fascinated by cryptozoology and the creatures that different areas of the world claim to see and state they have proof of.”

Spencer realizes he’s rambling and tries to cut himself off, but Margaux's eyes are wide as she actively leans against the counter giving him her rapt attention.

She notices his abrupt stop and she tilts her head, “Keep going, you have my full attention! I’m trying to get into the spooky spirit!” She drawls out, her rich accent seeping through.

Margaux turns to grab his drink and hand it to him. It's in a nice burnt orange colored mug, “It’s a maple chai latte. Felt like fall to me.” She said quietly, having a matching mug with him. She leans against the counter and bats her hand at his forearm.

“C’mon tell me more!” She giggled.

Spencer stared at her in awe for a moment, before he tried to hide his expression through drinking his latte.

“Ghost hunting became popular in the early 2000s, but it’s been around since the 1920’s and even before then there were popular ghost stories told throughout history! Humans have always been interested in the afterlife which is why we’re probably so fascinated by looking for proof of the afterlife.”

Margaux nodded and sips from her own mug, “Have you ever watched those ghost hunting shows before?” she asked curiously.

Spencer shook his head no. “I don’t watch a lot of television.”

She hums in thought, “Yeah, that checks out. Well, they’re super cheesy and trashy. Love them to be honest.”

“Which one’s your favorite?” he asked, leaning closer toward her against the bar.

It felt like it was only the two of them in the bookstore. Inside their own bubble, the world moved slowly inside the confines of the Midnight Owl.

“This is gonna sound so awful!” She laughed lightly shaking her head, “There’s a show called Ghost Adventures, and the main guy, Zak Bagans, he’s such a dick to the ghosts! He instigates all the time, and I mean, regardless of if ghosts are real, he goes in hot ! Not to mention he always throws his costar Aaron into the worst places! It’s just insane, absolute trash.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

“But you love it?” Spencer asked.

Margaux gives him a deadpan stare, “Oh absolutely, it’s the best kind of quality trash.”

She burst into a fit of giggles and Spencer couldn’t help but find it contagious.

“Aaaaaaanyway~” She drags out, moving to grab her box of decorations.

“Wanna help me decide how to decorate?” she asked him, grabbing a pumpkin garland out of her bin and tossing it dramatically over her shoulders like a scarf.

Spencer brushes his loose hair out of his face and nods. He may still be useless on crutches, but he could help her... Kind of.

Margaux empties the containers of the bin on the counter where Spencer’s sitting and he quickly grabs his mug to lift it up to avoid being knocked over from the avalanche of orange and black. She smiled at him apologetically before trying to dig out her favorite decorations.

Spencer’s face is twisted in a look of frustration as he sits in the corner reading. He came in a while ago and besides his drink, he hasn’t spoken much to Margaux.

Which isn’t a bad thing, tonight was one of her busier nights. It was mid-October, and the festivities had been nonstop. Tonight was vampire night, which upon entering the building Spencer was already grimacing. There was a special drink deal on the board hanging above the cafe for anyone buying a vampire related book. Twilight , Dracula , Carmilla , Interview with a Vampire, just pick a title it was an option with its own fun themed cafe drink that was absolutely red.

It wasn’t like Margaux knew he had just finished working on a case that involved vampirism, but the odds weren’t in his favor for finding an escape from the most recent case. Halloween season had its ups and downs he supposed.

There was no way of explaining his slightly irritable mood. Spencer hadn’t mentioned his work to her. She didn’t ask, and he didn’t feel like explaining that he spent most of his waking hours profiling serial killers. In the past it hasn’t made the best openers in conversation. It’s also nice to have this small corner of his life not be coated with unsubs, victims, and death. It’s just his favorite bookstore.

Spencer looked up to see Margaux making more drinks, the cafe was popular tonight. She’s chatting up another woman who’s laughing at the joke Margaux’s telling her. The other woman is holding a book that Spencer is positive is a vampire novel.

“And I have one raspberry mocha for a Carmilla lover!” Margaux’s voice rang out and she handed over the drink to the customer.

“Come back Sunday for our movie night, we’re playing Beetlejuice !” Margaux said and waved goodbye to the customer.

For eleven o'clock at night Margaux was busy. Busting out drink after drink and ringing up books at the cafe register. It was her idea to do a deal with a themed book and drink combo, but she didn’t expect to still be busy into the night. She hadn’t even had a break in customers to say hello to her regulars.

For business, this was great, for her own mental health, she was struggling. She just needed it to slow down enough to catch her breath. She should have scheduled someone else on shift with her, but she wasn’t about to call for help now. It was her mistake, and she’ll live with it. She will make a note to make sure someone is on shift with her tomorrow night for a different themed deal.

After another round of five more customers Margaux finally has a break. She sighed leaning against the counter and took a grounding breath. She doesn’t move for a minute, just catching her breath before she looks up and catches Spencer from his chair looking at her. She shoots him a shaky smile that is supposed to be reassuring but actually looks like she's about to cry. Spencer’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he decides to get up and go toward her. The cafe was still bustling but no one was sitting at the counter. Spencer shoves his book into his bag, grabs his crutches and hobbles to the counter.

“Busy night?” he asked, already knowing the answer but trying to see how she was doing.

Margaux’s midnight eyes look up into his hazel ones and she looks worn. “In my head, the whole vampire bomb and Halloween themed event seemed like a good idea. For profit, absolutely. For my sanity? I never wanna see another Twilight shirt or raspberry flavored item for a while.” she said in a groan leaning against the counter.

“What is Twilight ?” Spencer asks her.

He doesn’t know anything except that it has something to do with vampires and its popular enough that the victims of the latest case were also obsessed with it. He knows it’s a book, but besides that, he has no clue.

Margaux blinks at him for a moment, trying to deduce if he’s being serious or not. “Very funny Spencer, I know you’re not asking what the pop culture phenomenon Twilight franchise is.” She replied with a laugh.

After a moment of looking at Spencer’s confused face she realized he was in fact, unaware. Her eyes widen.

“Wait, wait, wait, you seriously don’t know? I mean it’s like everywhere. The second movie is coming out in less than a month. I don’t think I’ve sold so many copies of a book in my life. I can’t keep New Moon on the shelves.” she said almost exasperatedly, but the smile on her face gives her away. If Spencer didn’t know any better, he’d think she was getting a kick out of it. He knows by now Margaux won’t make fun of him; she’s elated for a completely different reason.

“I just know it’s popular and about vampires.” He replied with a shrug.

“Oh my god, I get to explain Twilight to you.” Her face splits into a massive grin, her energy returning quickly.

Spencer quirks an eyebrow at her, “I thought you were over hearing Twilight?”

“No, no, no, no! This is totally different!” She’s almost vibrating with excitement. “I’ve read all the books, I’m gonna let you borrow my copy next time you’re in! Actually, I’ll give you the first two since you read so fast!” her words are running together in a run on sentence she’s talking too fast. Her accent came through stronger than ever with her eagerness.

He doesn’t have it in him to turn her down, she’s so thrilled. Spencer just finds himself too caught up in her own joy to tell her he had no interest in the book series. He finds himself agreeing to her letting him borrow her copies.

“I can buy them if you need me too. I don’t want to take your copies unless, you’re sure.” He offers.

Margaux shakes her head, “I can’t keep them on the shelves long enough for you to buy them. Just go ahead and take my copies.” She moves to make Spencer a drink that isn’t one of the red blood themed drinks on the menu. “It’s not a big deal. I do have a lot of sticky notes in there though, my friends and I read it for a book club night.”

He sits up a little straighter, suddenly becoming more interested in reading these books. Not because of their pop culture relevance but because he could read Margaux’s commentary. There was something special about that, sharing a book with annotations.

“I’ll bring one too.” He finds himself offering before he can think.

Margaux’s face glows as she hands him a chai latte. “I’d love that! It’ll take me a bit longer to read than you will.” she joked lightly.

“It’ll be worth it; I haven’t had someone to talk to about books since my mom.” He said looking down at his drink, his eyes growing distant for a split second.

Margaux opens her mouth to ask but quickly shuts it, biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself. She might be nosy, but she knew when to not pry. It was how Spencer seemed to be somewhere else in his mind, if only for a moment. It was enough to know that she had no business asking him to open a can of worms he maybe didn’t want to. Instead, she turns around to grab a set of fake vampire teeth to put in her mouth. They were small and awkward and not cute by any means, but if she could get him to smile, that was all she needed.

She patiently waits for Spencer to look back up at her as she rests her head in her palm and keeps her face neutral. The fake teeth are making her mouth uncomfortable, but she’ll survive.

When Spencer does look up and sees Margaux dramatically batting her eyes at him and grinning madly with children’s plastic vampire teeth, he can’t control the bubbling laughter that takes over him. His shoulders shake with the full body movement, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Where did you get those?” he asked through his fit.

She turns to spit them out into the trash, her mouth disgustingly filled with drool from the uncomfortable teeth. She covers her mouth and grabs her own drink to flush out her mouth.

“They were a gimmick for the themed drinks tonight.” she finally replied. “Good for a quick joke not for actually wearing.” she said groaning.

“Pretty sure they are made for children’s mouths.” Spencer teased.

She shrugs and sighs, “Well, being a vampire for Halloween is off the list of options this year. I don’t want to wear those for a whole night.”

“Probably better off.” He said trying to not immediately focus on Dante and his manager coercing a mentally ill young woman into committing vampire ritual like murders.

“Yeah, the whole thing with that celebrity kinda left a sour taste in my mouth.” she mentioned grimacing.

“Dante?” Spencer asked for clarification.

“Yeah, it was all over the tabloids,” she pointed to the magazine stand by the main register. “Got them in this morning.”

Spencer tries to not make a face as he sees them, “You read that?”

Margaux lets out a loud snort of a laugh. “No, no, no, oh god!” She stands up a little straighter and pushes her dark hair out of her face. “I don’t trust a TMZ article as far as I can throw it, but those murders are real. Making it look like vampire bites... that just skeeves me out.”

Spencer drinks from his mug but nods his head in agreement. He didn’t peg her to believe paparazzi reports. The magazine articles would be wrong anyway; they didn’t make the arrest until that afternoon. It was refreshing to see someone not believe everything they read.

“If vampires are off your list, what other costumes are you thinking about?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“No idea.” Margaux groans out in irritation. “I usually do group costumes with my friends but, kind of hard when they live 600 miles away.”

“South?” he asked.

She snorted with a roll of her eyes, “Aw geez what gave it away?” she teases with an exaggerated drawl, making her accent thicker than normal.

Spencer shakes his head in amusement. “Very funny. Why move here?”

Margaux tenses up, avoiding his doe eyes. She looks down biting her lip nervously. “It’s uh, a long story.” she said quietly.

Her body almost looks like it’s trying to shrink in on itself. Spencer doesn’t need to be a profiler to understand her body language. Whatever it is, she’s not ready to share it.

Instead, he tries to be reassuring that he’s not prying for information.

“I’m a transplant too. I grew up in Las Vegas.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’ve never been, is it really just the strip filled with casinos or are there nice pockets of peace and no tourists?” she asked.

Spencer sighs, “It is a lot of tourists. There’s plenty of local places, ones that are only there if you’ve grown up knowing how to get to them.” he told her in a quiet voice, almost conspiratorially.

Her mouth splits into a smile that reaches her eyes, her dark indigo eyes sparkling, “So you’ll be my tour guide, right?”

Spencer’s face heats up from the suggestion and Margaux’s giggles fill the room.

“I’m just teasing you,” she pats his arm reassuringly before going to grab a pastry from the front display.

“Come on and split this last cookie with me, I know I'm not going to sell it.” She said grabbing a chocolate chip cookie and warming it up before cutting it in half.

Spencer’s face is still tinted pink but the soft cookie and the way it melts when he bites into it and seeing Margaux look happier than earlier, it's enough for him. A small corner of peace in the world inside the Midnight Owl.

The one after Haley’s funeral

Margaux’s sitting at the checkout counter reading the book Spencer most recently traded with her. It’s one of the Sherlock Homles books, which she had admittedly never read before. She had watched plenty of films and shows but reading it never really crossed her mind.

She joked about making Spencer watch The Great Mouse Detective when she finished so she could explain her first introduction to Sherlock Holmes. He had no idea what she was talking about, which Margaux found charming in its own way. She loved introducing Spencer to the pop culture media that just filled her brain. Even if it was trashy. She had promised him The Great Mouse Detective was anything but trash. A childhood classic for her.

She takes her time reading the books Spencer gives her. He started leaving small post-it notes for her in them with commentary and questions. It was like they had their own language, and it was books. Even if he let her borrow a genre, she had no interest in, she suddenly was invested. It was a way to get to know him, and in turn he took her books happily. Her annotations were way more scattered brained and filled with tiny commentary to herself.

She saw Spencer reading one of her books she let him borrow and he laughed, loudly, in the middle of the store. They were both flushed in embarrassment. It was a busy night, filled with university students studying late at night, so it was mostly silent besides the music Margaux was playing through the speakers. She also knew she had written something insulting about one of the characters on that sticky note. She got creative with her insults, and she had completely forgotten to take that out before giving it to him. Spencer had teased her about her comments on Gale from The Hunger Games for the rest of that night.

She’s in the middle of The Hounds of Baskerville when the door opens. She looks up to greet them but her face falls when she sees Spencer. She slowly closes the book and moves to walk toward him.

His eyes were hollow and the normal dark circles under his eyes seemed impossibly darker than usual. Spencer just seemed sad and defeated. Margaux had not seen this side of him and all she wanted to do was press her thumb to his forehead and smooth out the furrow of his brow. To get him to relax, if only for a moment.

“Hey honey, what’s wrong?” she asked gently walking toward him. She reaches out to rub his arms affectionately, “What happened?”

Her voice is soft and sweet, the way she said honey with her drawl feels like a hug. Spencer just needed a minute. One second of peace. The image of Haley’s body unmoving with blood still fresh behind his eyes.

“It’s been a long week.” His voice comes out a little rough. He’s haggard from the flight from Nashville and he really didn’t want to go home.

The only comforting place he could think of immediately was the Midnight Owl, Margaux. Her warm voice and comforting drinks were the only things he could stand to be around.

Margaux’s face softens at his words, and she tilts her head, “Do you need a hug?” she asked softly.

There’s a shaky sigh that escapes Spencer’s mouth and he just nods his head, unable to form the words.

Margaux pulls him into her embrace gently, her arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly. She rubs soothing circles into his back and Spencer holds onto her waist. Her body radiates heat and it's comforting as he shoves his face into her shoulder. She smells like vanilla, cloves, and parchment paper and his whole body relaxes into her. She holds onto him until Spencer pulls away, not wanting him to feel like he was burdening her. The store was empty anyway, it's been a slow night.

He takes a deep breath before peeling himself off her. He moves his hands to hold her arms so he’s supporting himself. Margaux’s eyes soften as she looks him over, her hand coming up to cup his face.

“You don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to, but I’ve been told I’m a great listener.” She whispers softly.

Spencer relaxes against her touch and doesn’t say much, just hums in response. He eventually finds his words, “My friends wife died recently, and it just, it was a shock.”

He doesn’t want to get into how Haley died. That his job makes him and his coworkers targets. The people they love. George Foyet died at Hotch’s hands for killing Haley and attempting to kill Jack. Spencer watched Hotch’s face crumble, fall and lose what he loved the most. He knew Hotch didn’t want to divorce Haley, he loved her and his son with his whole heart.

That love had cost him Haley’s life.

“Oh hun,” Margaux’s voice brings him back, “I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head, “I’ll be fine. I’m just processing it.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, you’re allowed to process and grieve, especially if you knew her.” She tells him firmly. “C’mon, go sit down and I’m gonna make a delicious warm drink and we can just relax alright?”

Spencer gives a tiny, tight smile and lets her grab his hand to pull him to one of the nicer chairs. He sets his cane against the armrest and is floored by how easy everything is with Margaux.

She doesn’t push or pry for information, let’s him ramble, and Spencer doesn’t think he’s had a real friend outside of the BAU in a long time, much less someone his age. As much as he loves his team, there are times where they don’t understand him. It’s a lot easier to be himself with Margaux. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t know what he’s doing most of his days, and he could argue with himself that she doesn’t know him. Almost 90% of his life is the BAU, and who is he if he isn’t Dr. Spencer Reid, FBI agent in the Behavioral Analyst Unit? A small part of him hopes he would be the person he becomes when he enters the Midnight Owl.

He’s too lost in his thoughts to notice her walking over with two steaming mugs.

“Here, it’s just tea but I think you need a relaxing drink. No caffeine.” She said her tone is sweet as she looks him over.

She sits on the arm rest of the chair cradling her own mug. “Can I try something?” she asks him.

Spencer is drinking from his mug, but he mutters an agreement under his breath.

“Lean back fully in the chair.” she instructed.

He does as he’s told, he lowers his hands to his lap, mug still warmly pressed into his hands. Spencer isn’t sure what she’s trying to do until her hands are running through his hair, feather light. She’s not massaging his scalp, just the lightest of touches as she cards her fingers through his long hair. Spencer’s eyes close and he almost moans from how the tension leaves his body immediately.

Margaux lets out a tiny snort but continues the motions.

“My momma used to do this when I was little.” She whispers to him, keeping her voice low.

“I would be asleep in an instant.” she emphasized with a quiet snap of her fingers.

Spencer’s eyes flutter open to look up at her, his big doe eyes looking up to see Margaux’s soft features look highlighted in the warm glow of the lamps. She looks down at him and tilts her head.

“I might pass out like this.” he murmured in a low voice.

“You can if you want. Promise I won’t let anyone bother you... not that anyone’s coming in anytime soon.” She drawls out looking around at the empty shop.

“Just a quick nap, twenty minutes.” he told her, voice already fading and his eyes growing heavy.

She doesn’t respond to him, just continues stroking his hair until he falls asleep. He feels the warm mug leave his hands and he hears ceramic clank onto the wooded side table next to him.

Margaux watches Spencer sleep, giving him much longer than twenty minutes. His dark circles told her enough, he needed this nap more than he was letting on. It takes less than five minutes for Spencer to pass out. His body relaxed into the chair with all tension leaving his body. She slows down her movements until she feels safe enough to stop. His small snore telling her he was asleep.

She moved to stand and went back to her duties, which wasn’t more than inventory tonight. Mondays were always slow.

Margaux moved about the bookshop, filing away books, crossing off things on her checklist, and besides the few customers that came in for less than twenty minutes each, the night was quiet. Enough so that she let Spencer sleep much longer than twenty minutes.

Spencer sleeps peacefully for most of the night. She checks on him occasionally, and besides the few snores, he’s sound asleep.

Around four in the morning he stirs awake, blinking blearily and looks around the store. Margaux hears him and pokes her head out from behind a shelf.

“Good morning sunshine!” She teases in a chipper tone.

Spencer looks at her confused before looking down at his watch. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, tone not accusing, just confused.

Margaux shrugged and made her way over to him, “You looked like you needed the sleep.”

She gently reaches her hand up to smooth the furrow of his brow. “You’ll die young from all that stress you’re carrying on your shoulders.” She tells him softly. The way she’s gently touching his forehead is like she’s trying to erase the stress and pressure.

Spencer sighs into her touch, “For sleeping on a chair, it was pretty peaceful.” he murmurs.

Margaux snorts in amusement. “Well, at least I know they’re comfy.”

“I sleep on planes frequently, so this is much better.” he tells her.

“Travel a lot for work?” She asked.

Spencer just nods. Not wanting to explore too deep into his job. The job that was leaving him sleepless most nights.

“Do you feel any better?” she asks quietly.

He nods solemnly. “Better than when I arrived.” he said with a shrug.

Margaux frowns but doesn’t push, she pushes his hair back again giving him a reassuring smile.

“I’m a good listener if you ever need to talk. Promise.” She puts out her pinky finger in the childish gesture of a pinky promise.

Spencer finds himself smiling, finding it charming. Regardless of his problem with germs, it doesn’t feel so intense with Margaux. She’s not a stranger anymore. He hooks his pinky with hers.

“Not now.” He whispers. “But someday...”

“Someday.” she reaffirms.

The one about family

Spencer’s surprised to see that Margaux isn’t working one random night in November. He knows that, of course, Margaux can’t possibly be working every single night he comes in. It just throws him off when he doesn’t see her immediately. The sunshine woman behind the bar making him a new sickly sweet coffee to try. She’s only ever missed one day max two, so he doesn’t think much of it. Just a blip on his night.

One night without her suddenly turns into half a week. Everyday Spencer walks in and it’s not her bright bubbly voice greeting him. It’s one of the handful of people who work the late-night shift. They aren’t strangers, Spencer’s ran into a couple of them occasionally. So, when Spencer comes into the bookstore to see, yet again, Robert, manning the front desk lazily flipping through a magazine, his mild frustration turns to worry. Margaux’s been gone for four days and none of her coworkers seem to know why.

What if she’s sick? What if something happened to her? Did she take a vacation? Is she in danger?

The thoughts consume Spencer so much he almost calls Penelope to track her down. Or at least give him her address to check on her. He pulls himself together and realizes that it would be a bad idea and an invasion of her privacy. He’ll just have to wait it out.

Spencer does wait, mostly because he’s forced too. The BAU never truly stops working.

When he finally sees Margaux again it’s near the tail end of November and way too close to Thanksgiving for his liking. He feels like she’s been gone for ages, but it’s only been two weeks. The door chimes behind him as he walks in, he’s expecting to see her big dark indigo eyes light up with a smile on her flushed pink cheeks. The way she’s always greeted him.

Instead, he sees a side of Margaux that he’s not used to at all. She looks tired, exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes could compete against his natural ones. She’s wearing glasses which he’s never seen on her before. Her hair is haphazardly tied up, and Margaux’s in a large well-worn sweater that reads, ‘Read Banned Books’. He doesn’t think she’s slept much, if at all, since he last saw her.

She looks like a zombie, barely functioning.

She doesn’t even register Spencer enter; she’s standing at the checkout counter finishing a transaction with a customer. She’s swaying on her feet the whole time.

Spencer lets her finish the interaction before coming over to the counter, concern clear on his face.

“Margaux?” He says her name softly as he approaches.

Her eyes fly up to him and widen a little in surprise, her body reacts with a small flinch. “Oh god Spencer!” She gives a soft laugh her hand coming up to clutch her chest, “You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in.” she tries to calm herself down.

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes and Spencer can tell. It doesn’t take a profiler to see she’s not herself. Her eyes are only half open, her hands shaking from what he can only assume is the obscene amount of caffeine she probably has in her system. Everything just seems muted, not in the bright colors he used to seeing her be framed in.

“Are you feeling okay? You’ve been gone for a while.” he prompts, trying to get something out of her. A clue to what might have happened. Anything.

She shakes her head, “I’m fine, everything’s fine.” She said a little too quickly.

Spencer doesn’t buy it, but he’s kept enough secrets to himself to know he probably shouldn’t go looking into friends’ private lives. Some things he knows he’d rather keep to himself... but seeing her like this, he wants to help.

She avoids his eyes and starts to play with her hands on the counter. “I-” she opens her mouth but promptly shuts it again. She bites her cheek with a frown plastered on her face.

“Sorry, it’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.” She says quickly before turning to grab some books from behind the desk to busy herself with.

She doesn’t want to talk about or think about it. It’s been a long two weeks, and she just needs some normalcy. Something that she knows she can do and enjoys.

Margaux feels Spencer’s eyes burning into her. She’s trying to keep her usual high energy, she truly is. Everything has been so rough this month; she just needs a break. The bookstore was her solace. The Midnight Owl wasn’t just a job, it was Margaux’s home. Her safe haven.

She didn’t want to bring her real life here, not when sometimes her only highlight is seeing Spencer and sharing books back and forth. If he starts asking about her life outside the four walls of her shop, she doesn’t know if she can hold herself together. Not today.

“Margaux,” he opens his mouth trying to get her attention again.

“Really Spencer, it’s fine, I’m fine!” she tells him, a short tone to her voice.

She spins on her heels to walk somewhere, anywhere, else. “You know I have your book actually, let me return it. I left some notes in there.” She makes it five or six steps before she falters and sways again. Spencer reaches out to grab her and steadies her.

“Forget the book Margaux, you don’t look fine.” He makes her face him. “You look exhausted.” He chastises her.

She deflates immediately and lets Spencer guide her to a chair. He gently sets her down and he pries the book out of her hand and places it on the side table.

“Sorry, you don’t have to take care of me.” she murmurs feebly swatting him away. “I just...” Margaux takes a deep breath. “I had to take dad to the hospital on Tuesday and it’s just been downhill all week...” she admits timidly. She pushed her glasses up her hairline and pressed the heels of her palm to her eyes.

“I haven’t gotten much sleep.” she admits.

“You’ve run yourself ragged.” Spencer lowers himself to be eye level with her. “Is he home now?” he asks gently.

“No, they’re keeping him one more night.” She said with a heavy sigh.

Her arms fell in between her knees, and she leans her head back exhausted. “It’s just been hard this past year...” Her voice is small and lingers with sadness.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked hesitantly.

Spencer maybe doesn’t like talking about his hardships, but he’ll listen to Margaux’s if she lets him. He wants to desperately ease her mind, see her smile.

She looks up at him, eyes wide as she assesses him. “I don’t want to put my problems on you Spencer.” She gives a tight smile. “I’ll figure it out.”

Spencer reaches out to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Talking about it doesn’t mean that you’re inconveniencing me. I'm just worried.”

She sighs, already feeling him chip away at her. She didn’t stand a chance against his big doe eyes looking at her like she was fragile.

She takes a deep breath before answering him, “My dad has ALS, he was diagnosed a few years ago... I’ve been taking care of him.” she admits.

“Where we were, the doctors just weren’t cutting it. So, I did some research and of course there were stellar doctors in DC... plus my baby sister came here for university so I just thought... maybe it would be easier. On all of us.” The tone of her voice gives her worry away.

“Anyway, he just, he had an accident and fell down the other day. His legs are finally giving out and he’s being so stubborn about needing a wheelchair.” Her voice shakes and she closes her eyes.

“It’s been a long week.” She finally admits looking up at Spencer with watery eyes.

Spencer understands. He’s spent most of his life taking care of his mom because of her own illness. While Margaux’s dad is suffering from something different, he understands. Probably more than she realizes.

“I get it, I do.” he tells her. Margaux goes to retort, but he cuts her off. “I took care of my mom for a long time. She...” He pauses looking at Margaux, debating for a moment on if he should tell her.

“My mom has schizophrenia, and I committed her when I was eighteen.” he tells her with a tight frown.

“It’s hard to take care of your parents, especially when it’s their job to take care of us.” He tells her sincerely.

Margaux has tears pricking her eyes, “Oh Spencer, I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head, “I’m telling you this because I understand. I promise I do, it’s not easy.”

Margaux takes a shaky breath; her heart feels like it’s a thousand pounds. “Does it ever get easier?” she asks softly.

Spencer squeezes her hand, “No, it doesn’t. There are happy moments though. Moments where you know you’re doing the right thing, even if it’s difficult.”

She sniffles and wipes her face, “Thanks, I uh, I needed that.” she said with a small smile.

It’s getting closer to Christmas. The bookstore is decorated and busier than ever. There’s a handful of special events but between people coming in to buy presents and university students staying all night to study for finals, Margaux has her hands full.

There’s a second staff member working nights with her this month until the holiday break starts for the store. Which Margaux and Josie were adamant about closing the bookstore between Christmas Eve and New Years. If someone needed a book that badly they could go to a big box store.

What she really doesn’t need right now is her baby sister coming to her place of work and harassing her about Christmas and their dad.

“Bridget, I don’t have time to discuss this with you right now!” Margaux hisses out at her younger sister. “You didn’t spend Thanksgiving with us and daddy really wants you to come home just for Christmas.” She chastised her sister with a frown.

Margaux has a pause in customers for the moment, but she knows that the large study group is coming in half an hour like they have been for the past week and half.

“That’s not fair Maggie!” Her sister groans in frustration using Margaux’s nickname. “I made these plans months ago; Mark really wants me to spend Christmas with his family.”

Margaux crosses her arms and looks at her baby sister sadly. “Birdie, we don’t know how much time we get with dad-” she starts but is cut off.

Bridget’s face scrunches in disgust at her sister’s words and huffs exaggeratedly. “Good god Maggie! He’s not gonna die over the holidays, stop fucking guilt trippin’ me over every decision because it doesn’t revolve around dad!”

Bridget’s annoyed and Margaux can tell, she always tries to skirt around her problems when she’s frustrated. She thinks Margaux’s trying to back her into a corner.

“Birdie-”

“It’s Bri. I go by Bri here.” Her baby sister crosses her arms and looks at Margaux in annoyance.

“Look, I know dad’s sick, I’m not stupid.”

“I didn’t say you were Bridget.” Margaux said defensively.

She rolled her eyes, “I didn’t decide to pack everything up and move dad out to DC. Just because you’re closer doesn’t mean I’m going to stop living my life to take care of daddy.”

Margaux bites her tongue. Trying to not fight with her sister, but her irritation rises in her throat. Burning words of resentment linger in her mind.

“Fine. Would you please just call him on Christmas and please come by after the New Year. He really misses you.” She tries to plead with her sister.

Bridget just waves goodbye as she walks out the door, “Will do. See you next year Mags!” she almost ran out the door.

Margaux deflates, her shoulders dropping. She almost doesn’t hear Spencer walking up next to her holding a gift bag in his hands.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” he said.

She looks up at him and smiles at her favorite regular. Her friend. She thinks they’re allowed to call each other friends now. He already saw her cry and that was a big step for her.

Margaux shakes her head, “Yeah, we’re not as close as we used to be.” she mumbles under her breath.

Spencer nods his head. He never had any siblings, but he can read her face well enough to know she’s not thrilled.

“It’s fine.” she shrugs and gives a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She leans against the counter. “What’s that you got there?” she asked, changing the subject.

She’s pointing to the gift bag in his hands. She tilts her head curiously.

“Oh, this is,” he flushes for a split second rushing his words out. “This is for you. I know you’re closing for the holiday soon and I don’t know if I’ll have a last-minute work call or not so., I brought your Christmas present.” He fumbled through his words quickly, but he held out the small bag for her.

She lights up immediately. Her eyes shimmer with excitement. “Aww, Spencer! This is so kind thank you!”

She bends down below the counter and grabs her own item, “I actually have your present too.” she said shyly, handing him a wrapped package.

Spencer is quiet as he gently takes the gift from her, a tiny smile on his face. He brushes his hair back out of his face as he looks at her softly.

“This is so kind thank you.”

Giddy giggles consume her, and she holds the gift bag. “Should we open them together or do you want to wait until Christmas?” She asked.

Spencer shakes his head, “No no, you can open it now.” he reassures her.

Margaux smiles, biting the inside of her cheek and opens her present. Under the tissue paper is a sweater that’s twice her size and it’s the softest thing she’s ever felt. She pulls it out and it’s a purple crocheted sweater with a beautiful sun right in the middle. It reminds her of one of the tapestries from the late nineties that would have been in Practical Magic or something like that.

“Oh Spencer, this is perfect.” she says quietly holding it tightly to her chest. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

Margaux pulls off her cardigan and immediately shoves the sweater on. She nestles herself inside it and grins widely, “It matches your scarf!”

Spencer just takes in her joy and how she lights up, and he’s happy he could make her feel better.

“Well go on open yours!” she said excitedly pushing her wrapped package toward him.

Spencer gently peels back the wrapping paper and uncovers a white box; he opens the box to find a ceramic mug. Its custom made, with some uneven texture. It’s glazed a speckled purple and wrapped around the bottom is a quote, “Some books are so familiar that reading them is being home again.” -L.M. Alcott

Spencer is quietly inspecting it, and Margaux starts explaining. She pushes her midnight hair behind her ear, “I uh, I took a pottery class in my free time this past year. Since you’re here so much I thought you would like your own mug.” she said hesitantly.

Spencer’s eyes widen, “You, you made this? For me?” he asked in surprise.

She nods, looking down at the counter nervously.

Spencer makes his way around the counter and pulls her into a tight hug. “This is the best gift anyone's ever gotten me.” he whispers to her.

She returns the hug holding Spencer tightly. She presses her face into his shoulder, and she feels infinitely better than how her night started.

When they pull apart Margaux plays with the edge of her new sweaters' sleeves, a small blush on her face. “Do you go visit your mama for holidays?” She asked him.

Spencer shakes his head, “Not all the time. My job doesn’t usually care if it’s a holiday or not.” he tells her.

She nods, “Well, I hope you get to this year Spencer. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

He takes a shaky breath and nods in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll try to see her soon.”

Margaux nudges him lightly, trying to keep the tone light, “Want a fresh drink in your new mug?” she teases.

Spencer chuckles but nods his head. “I’d love that.”

“We’re about to test run if I’m actually good at pottery. So, fingers crossed it doesn’t leak.” She jokes moving to the cafe counter at the back of the store.

Spencer watches her walk away, with a skip in her step like the first night he came to the Midnight Owl. The way she easily glides through the crowd and chatters with customers and giggling.

She shines bright like a star, like the sun.

A/N: This is the first part of a series of long one shots following Margaux and her relationship with Spencer Reid. This starts in season 5.

#criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #original character #season 5 criminal minds

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tarfeeder · 3 months

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You have the best smoking and stomach pics! What is your smoking and weight gain history?

How did I become a smoker? I've always been fascinated by guys who smoke. I bought my first pack (red of course!) at 14 years old. I immediately liked it, feeling the smoke in my throat then my lungs, the effect of the nicotine which made me a little dizzy at the beginning, the filter which turned brown at the end.

For a year, I remained a closet smoker. After smoking I would wait before going home so my mother wouldn't smell the smell. Then I started feeling the urge to smoke, so I would go out after dinner. Finally, my mother said to me one evening: "why are you hiding that you smoke? I can smell tobacco on you"... I said, "yes mom, I smoke." I think she understood that I was becoming a smoker, and that nothing would make me stop smoking. I felt so free! No more hiding, hiding cigarettes, brushing your teeth all the time.

My consumption increased quickly. Seeing me light my first cigarette immediately after breakfast, my mother said "you smoke too much, you will destroy your lungs" But I found this idea very exciting :)

Gradually, I understood that I didn't smoke just for pleasure, but out of need. It's fascinating how nicotine takes over our brain. It forces us to anticipate the craving, chain cigarettes before 2 hours of classes without a break, smoke before sleeping, after meals. And then, no longer being able to wait until the end of breakfast to smoke, but giving my body its first dose of nicotine, when getting out of bed... Unless it's the need of nicotine that wakes me up? I had to start working after school to pay for my daily pack of reds. And I had to limit myself to this pack, because I couldn't spend more money.

After studying I got my first job, more money, meaning more cigarettes a day.

Smoking had become normal, satisfying my need for nicotine made me chain cigarettes naturally. The same pleasure every time.

As I was very thin I decided to start going to a gym to gain muscle and I really liked it. My body was developing, I gained biceps, pecs, back, my veins popped out.

And friends said “wow, great muscles !” I was very careful with food, avoiding dishes that were too rich or sweet, and being careful with alcohol. Cardio training to feel my lungs clean, because it caused the coughing necessary to evacuate the tar, and lift weights. My body was still lean, but muscular, well defined, I was proud of the result, I enjoyed wearing tight clothes to show my fit body.

I had this routine for a long time, work, gym, and always the pack of reds and tar accumulating in the lungs. But the lungs began to have difficulty providing enough oxygen and energy for training, it became more difficult, the efforts no longer brought pleasure. So my decision was to stop training, and eat and drink what I wanted. Obviously, combining caloric intake and stopping workout quickly had effects. No more abs, fewer biceps, the veins disappears. The belly got rounder, bigger and bigger, and eventually, like when I played sports, it was a different kind of body change. And I started to like these new shapes, the t-shirts that reveal the fat belly, the shirts who becomes too small to button my belly. My lungs are full of tar, they work harder to move my fat, my heart has to work a lot harder, and my arteries must not be in good condition to allow them to work well. I know that, but I won't change anything.

#smoker #marlboro #men who smoke #men smoking #black lungs #fat belly

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clownsnake · 1 month

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guys. Astarion wasn’t literally considered a child when he was 30. Among elves he was clearly seen as Of Age to do adult things like drink and live independently and fuck and pay taxes. its just that elves have a stupid extra concept of adulthood that doesn’t MEAN adulthood in a literal sense. has nothing to do with physical or brain development. not even necessarily emotional development, but it kind of is depending on how u interpret it, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

basically elves in the forgotten realms trance instead of sleep (we know this) and until around age 110, during their trances they “dream” of their past lives (I’ve only seen a few ppl who know this, but idk if they also knew it stops at a certain age). They then stop dreaming of their past lives naturally, and it’s generally considered kinda traumatic to go through bc well. you’re losing what has been a fundamental part of yourself for so long.

I interpret that as being like a “shared trauma maturation stage” where instead of elves brains literally becoming more adult, losing the guidance of their past lives feels like more of a final step towards independence to them. and adulthood is just the closest social experience to this stage of being “truly on your own”

around 30-40 they get a “first reflection”, which is when their dreams start having experiences from their current life. (Makes sense for Astarion having a dream about Cazador in origin runs that prompts the biting scene) And then the loss of past life memories at 100-110 is called the drawing of the veil.

Tl;dr Astarion was a young adult by elf standards stop infantilizing him PLEASE

Getting into headcanon land now, feel free to draw your own conclusions from here.

i imagine older elves kind of have a sense of being more “mature” than under-110 elves in the way tht people comparing their trauma tend to do. Like “u think ur so smart and worldly but you haven’t even been through half the shit I’ve been through.” PATRONIZING that’s the word I’m looking for, it’s patronizing. And since every elf goes through this, they just kind of assume that yeah, going through this trauma/emotional loss IS a big step towards being a full adult. so it’s like if the concept of adult had a Pokémon evolution that didn’t involve getting wrinkly and hair loss and going through menopause or erectyle dysfunction. Adult 1.5 steam update.

I have no clue if Astarion would have the drawing of the veil as an undead elf. The fact that he even has dreams shows that being revived as a vampire keeps certain bodily functions running, mainly anything relating to the brain and consciousness, but idk if it would keep him physically at 30 or let his brain change.

Although hold on, in the epilogue where you’re a mind flayer and considering eating Astarions brain, you get narration that’s like “ooohh his brain part that handles senses must be sooo wrinkly” which would only be caused by the shit he went through post-vampirification. Meaning his brain Would be able to change and “mature”. But that’s also just an assumption that mindflayer!tav/durge is making.

k I looked it up. The exact quote is “Astarion’s sweet brain may be a bit less wrinkled than the rest, but you hunger for its teasing cells. His parietal lobe - which controls his sense of touch - will be an aphrodisiac in your maw.” Hilarious, he canonically gets called smooth brain. Anyway if u kill him I don’t think you get to eat his brain, withers just banishes you asap lmao. So we don’t actually know if his parietal lobe changed over his un-life! I’d wager it did though, based on his “don’t touch me” selection line (and probably some other lines hinting towards over-sensitivity tht im forgetting). And change caused by external trauma vs change caused by aging is different anyway.

no conclusion wrt to if he’d reach the drawing of the veil or not. Does it even matter? He’s still the same adult man, who’s gone through far worse hardships than losing memories of his past lives. If he lost his past life dreams too, well then I don’t think that’d make much of a difference for him.

#bg3 #going post #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #forgotten realms #the doylist explanation would be none of the writers thought this hard abt elven aging and probably didn’t even consider the drawing of the #veil #but this is headcanon land so we r going watsonian all the way

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wooahaeruby · 3 months

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Chapter 2: Nothing is Easier Than I Thought

Chapter Word Count: 3,654

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev | Next

September 2015

Why you took a 6:30 PM class your first semester, you will never understand. Some part of you said it was to cram as many classes into one day to maximize your time on other days for homework, studying, and your part time job, but your already tired brain protested. Linguistics was already a hard major to begin with, you were learning three languages; Spanish, Japanese, and Korean, but you debated Mandarin, each you knew to some capacity.

The past couple days, you have been able to feel the anxious and restless feelings of your soulmate. Whoever they were, they haven’t let you have a single day of proper sleep in the past week and with it only being the second week on campus, you were already sick of it. You had hoped your soulmate was feeling your agitation and exhaustion.

Halfway through your two hour long class, an unexpected wave of tiredness washed over you. All the energy you previously had from the energy drink earlier in the evening was wiped away in an instant. At the front of the room, the words coming from the professor were falling on deaf ears, barely able to keep your head up at this point. Your own exhaustion mixed with your soulmate’s feeling had brought you to the brink of passing out. The anxiety that once nestled beside your emotions had faded and yet a burst of joy and excitement filled its space with ease.

For a moment, you rested your head down on your notebook, scoffing quietly to yourself at the odd mix of emotions. Whatever they were going through hopefully is worth it. Although agitation still rested under your skin, a sense of amusement came from your end.

As the rest of class dragged on, you kept yourself awake and coherent enough to take notes and get back to your dorm. Bursts of energy and excitement were pushed through from the bond you shared, your limbs felt strained, on fire even, but the longer it went on the more you got used to the sensation of physical exertion. The walk back to your dorm hall was a feat, honestly you don’t know how you managed to get up three flights of stairs and unlock your door before falling face first onto your bed. Your roommate wasn’t home, she usually came back later after studying until the library closed, which gave you the peace to just take everything and hopefully let it lull you to sleep.

In your semi-conscious state, you wondered who your soulmate was. All the emotional states they had placed you in the last couple months were not what you expected, but the curiosity was eating you up some inside. When there was a feeling of genuine joy that came amidst it all had you compiling a list of exactly what type of life they lived. Were they an adventurous person that explored things outside of their comfort zone? Were they a normal person with everyday anxiety that found happiness in overcoming their fears? Did they gain the physical strain from a demanding job?

Honestly you couldn't tell what their schedule was either. They slept at random hours, and had sudden bursts of energy throughout the day. It confused you when you tried to think about the life they lead.

Slowly, your thoughts did lull you into a deep sleep knowing your alarm was already set for your afternoon shift at the bookstore on campus.

Their first comeback was highly anticipated, but literally blood, sweat, and tears were shed to make it happen. For months on end, Jihoon had been working on compositions and lyrics, some songs even created before their debut. Sleepless nights, countless fights, and inevitable injuries from overworking themselves has led to this very moment.

It was 5:30 in the morning and he couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. Now sitting in the greenroom, makeup artists, hair stylists, and one of their managers were calling out for members to get ready. The contagious yawns passed through the room ten times over, some younger members were asleep after getting ready, however Woozi wasn’t able to settle in for a short nap. His leg bounced with nervous fidgeting and he messed too much with his clothes to attempt to keep himself calm. Within the next hour the group was to have an easy run through on the stage prior to the pre-recorded video. In the later half of the day, the studio would gather fans and they would perform their newest song, Mansae .

Truthfully, he felt bad for his soulmate. The bout of insomnia he had been experiencing was no doubt putting a damper on their mood, he definitely felt the discontentment and unrest through their bond. With staying up, he noticed how their mood shifted throughout the night for him. It at least gave him the solidified idea that they were from another area of the world. Pushing that aside, it seemed they were stressed as of recent. Nearly two weeks back, there was this underlying emotion of distress that was layered beneath anticipation and determination.

Somewhere in the final rush of costumes, hair and makeup, Jihoon felt a firm pat to his back and that same arm wrapping around his shoulder as they walked down the hall to the elevators.

“ Jihoon-ah! Let’s give it our best out there! ” The loud and energetic voice of Soonyoung rang loudly in his ear, making him wince slightly.

“ I’m right next to you, why are you yelling? ” Jihoon’s nose scrunched up as he grimaced, rolling his shoulders to remove the other’s arm from his body. “ And don’t yell, you will hurt your throat. ”

Soonyoung only laughed, a wide smile spreading on his face and he continued to walk beside his shorter friend. “ Energy needs to be up, I’m nervous as hell but I can’t let that stop me. ”

With a roll of his eyes and a small shake of his head, Jihoon watched as Soonyoung walked off to throw himself over Seokmin’s back. Their practice run was simple enough, camera direction and mic checks came back positive. Stylists went around fixing any outfits, hair, or touching up spots in their make up before they were ready for the recording.

Jihoon shook out his limbs before adjusting the mic in his hand. Taking his position on stage towards the back, he let the nerves drive him once the music started playing through his in-ear headset. No matter how fast the adrenaline made his heart race, no matter the difficulty in some of the choreography, he took the stage by storm with his members. It was one of the longest three minutes of his life up until now, sweat matted parts of his pink and blond hair, his feet hurt and his limbs were already growing sore from the tired strain.

However, he felt happy, overjoyed even. As the production crew gave praise for their expressions, hard work, and perseverance, excitement bubbled in his chest at the thought of performing in front of their fans further into the day. Getting back into the greenroom was no different, words of praise came from Seungcheol, their managers and staff were proud.

What he didn’t expect in the end was the outside feeling of amusement that wedged its way from the soulmate bond with fading agitation and fatigue. His heart grew a little bigger at that moment.

2016

How could one person be so…focused? But happy about that focus.

It was a question you asked yourself on a nearly constant basis the last few months. Back in September, there was a nearly month-long period of debilitating tiredness all hours of the day pushing through the bond. It made your ability to stay awake and attentive in class hard and by the end of the day, you were crashing while barely getting through your homework and work. Now, in your second semester of college and a more spread out schedule, the breaks you gave yourself seemed to help with your soulmates physical exertion.

Spring break had brought you home to your maternal grandparents who had been begging you to come visit sooner. They had welcomed you into your childhood home, still the same old decorations that never truly passed the test of time.

“Sweetheart, go freshen up upstairs, take a nap, you’ve been working so hard and you barely stayed too long during your winter time off.” Your grandmother ushered you off towards the stairs, taking your backpack and small suitcase. “And don’t come down until you at least get an hour or sleep, you hear me!?”

A laugh bubbled out of your throat, rolling your eyes. “Yeah yeah, Mimi, just don’t start blasting your old lady music until I’m awake!” As you ascend up the stairs, you hear the huffing scoff and a muttering of your words in a mocking tone.

It was early, close to mid-morning, and you had caught the first train that brought you close to your hometown. It was quiet between watching the scenery and feeling the rumble of the train as you sat. For the first time since the semester started, you felt at peace both mentally and physically. You knew once you got back to your dorm, you’d only have a month and a half before the semester was over., You had an amazing internship lined up at an international business that handles multiple different contracts and if you did well they’d be willing to help with your education and continue on your classes regarding business.

The idea alone had put you at ease to say the least. It gave you hope for a brighter future compared to the treacherous childhood you had been through.

To say practice was brutal was an understatement. With only a month left until their new album was to be released, the member’s schedule was packed and tension was high. The lack of sleep and diets have put people on edge, new choreography needed to be hammered out, and with it being a full album, they had a lot riding on their shoulders.

“ Let’s run it from the top again.” Soonyoung called out, but five minutes after they finished their most recent run.

“ Hyung, it hasn’t even been ten minutes, we are gonna wear ourselves out before we even get going again. ” Mingyu protested, lifting his shirt to wipe the beads of sweat that descended down his face from his hairline.

Laying flat on the hard dance room floors to catch his breath, Jihoon let his eyes stay shut to regain any strength in his body. His legs felt like jello and a headache was starting to come on. Lifting his arm and cracking his eyes open, he groaned at the time on his watch: 4:49 PM. They still had over an hour to finish the rest of practice. The worst part? He knew Soonyoung would get annoyed and a fight – verbal one thankfully – would break out between some of the members, which would ruin practice.

Jihoon was even starting to grow frustrated with the recent events. He hated the fighting and he hated seeing his friends – no, his family – suffering for the reality that was being an idol. It wasn’t fair, he knew that like the back of his hand, but this was the life he did sign on the dotted line for.

“ If we get up and get it all done, maybe we can get out of here earlier, right? ” Dino spoke up, sitting beside Jeonghan and Seungkwan on the floor against the mirrors.

Seungkwan leaned his head onto the youngest’s shoulder, speaking gently to him. “ You have wishful thinking, Hoshi-hyung is brutal, you know that. ”

Still with some protests, practice went on, repeating the same dance over and over and over in mind numbing succession. By the time they had wrapped up and were ready to get home, many were close to falling asleep where they stood. The walk home was close, thankfully, yet getting inside and everyone taking showers was a feat still. No one truly had any sense of personal space or quiet with all thirteen sharing a dorm together.

Crawling into bed, Jihoon let the weight of the day slowly slip from his limbs. The tense muscles, pounding headache, and frustration that presented itself to him sometimes were overwhelming, however tonight was different.

Through the bond him and his soulmate shared, there was a creeping feeling of tranquility. It felt so…breathtaking, like fresh air was hitting his lungs for the first time. That peace was mixed with sleepiness, not the usual exhaustion that pushed through. A part of him would laugh if he wasn’t so tired, finding it comical that they were feeling completely opposite states of mind.

“ Goodnight to whoever you are, Soulmate. ”

2017

How could he describe the discomfort in his chest that was throwing him off his entire game?

This year, Jihoon and the rest of his group had done so much. While last year only brought an Asia tour, they successfully finished their first world tour. Not long after settling at home, they released their second full album, Teen, Age, where the group recently finished album promotions.

Sitting in his studio, Universe Factory he called it, Jihoon let the notes of his most recent composition soothe the discomfort that built up. Over the course of a few weeks, the bond had pushed an encroaching amount of hopelessness from his soulmate. It was eating him alive, keeping him awake when he needed the rest to recover from the year. Eating became difficult, motivation was dwindling to even get out of bed even when the feeling wasn’t his own. He was lucky that he made it to the studio tonight.

The members had been hounding him to leave his room, Mingyu specifically since they were sharing a room together in their new dorm. Seungcheol and Jeonghan had offered dinner, Soonyoung offered to go see a movie, and Joshua had suggested just going to the second dorm and watching anime. Each time, he declined, only wanting to stay in and ride through whatever depressive episode they were going through.

Looking about the room now, he sunk back into his chair, contemplating some way to counterbalance this…dejection. It wasn’t easy to fix this, though he didn’t think there wasn’t a way to fix this. You were someone unknown to him, hell he had figured out you were most likely on the other side of the world. The time on his wrist taunted him with the knowledge that both of you had a lengthy time until you were to meet.

A huff left him, raising both hands to rub them over his face to clear his head. He couldn’t even be there to provide any comfort which for one reason or another made him feel immensely guilty.

“ You look like you are going through every emotion at once.” The voice that called out had Jihoon jumping out of his skin.

Meeting the other’s eye, his shoulders deflated at the sight of his leader, holding a bag of what he assumed was takeout food in hand.

“ You know, for someone that tells the other’s to eat, sleep, and stay healthy, you are really bad at following your own advice.” Seungcheol snorted, taking a seat on the couch just behind Jihoon’s desk. He took the time to take the food containers out of the bag and set the spread out for both of them.

With unseen weight pushing down on him, Jihoon trudged his way to the couch and barely managed to miss Seungcheol as he limply sat back on the couch. “ I’m trying to but every time I try to sleep, they are awake feeling so hopeless. I go to eat and I just lose my appetite. I want to be able to help them, I do, but I can’t because destiny says we can’t meet for like 5 more years.”

Quietly, Seungcheol handed a pair of chopsticks to the younger man which were taken and with slight reluctance, Jihoon began eating.

“ Sometimes we have to accept that there is nothing you can do, you realize that, correct? ”

Jihoon hated how right he was, but he would never admit it. Well, maybe he would but not right now. Not while the irrational part of himself was still blaming himself for his soulmate's depression.

In relative silence, the two ate. Beside him, Seungcheol was keeping a watchful eye to see if the other was truly eating and was satisfied he was able to feed the other without much of a fight.

“ Think of it like this, ” Jihoon perked up, “ Channel it into your music, make something for them that makes you feel good. Maybe lifting your mood can help lift theirs?”

Wracking his brain. Seungcheol swore he saw a light bulb appear above the shorter man’s head. Jihoon stood from his spot and hurried over to his computer, nearly smashing the keyboard for the screen to light up again. As soon as he could see, he was clicking around for a file, an unfinished composition that he didn’t know what to do with. The BMP was on the higher end, high energy. He played through it once, twice, and behind him, his leader was already packing up any leftover food to bring back to the dorm at this point.

Coming up behind him, Jihoon jumped when Seungcheol’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“ I’m going to get out of your hair. Be back to the dorm before it gets too late or I’m having Soonyoung or Mingyu drag you back.”

“ Mm, Bye hyung.”

And with that, he began his work once more, a re-found feeling of inspiration and creativity. It took a few hours, much faster than some of the other times it took to refine a piece and perfect lyrics to convey what he wanted. The work flowed easily, a second natural at this point for the young producer. As he worked, Jihoon failed to notice the tiny smile that was spreading across his face.

He let his hands dance across the keyboard, hitting enter as he finally named the file; Run To You .

Pulling up his email, Jihoon sent it to his manager and a few of their album production staff, stating he needed it on the special album, no buts. It needed to be there; for himself and hopefully for his soulmate if they listened to his group.

You felt like you were sinking. The more you attempted to swim up for air, the more you were dragged down by the heavy weights around your ankles that you called life.

Back last month in November, only six or so months since you began your internship. They had offered you a full time job, willing to pay for the rest of your bachelors and fund your masters degree if you stuck with them. You made the agreement to go part time with schooling, exclusively online, 3 classes per spring and fall along with 1 per summer and winter semesters. You already did a decent amount of credits your first four semesters, so you weren’t too worried until the new fall semester hit.

Ever since August, you felt the weight start to build up and push down on you. At first, it was small. Your higher up gave you a lot of responsibility, a large role to fill – your boss said – explaining that your ability to translate and review documentation were exemplary. The fall semester brought your classes for both your majors in order to graduate on time. You were keeping up between lack of sleep and a, somewhat thankfully, eight to four job.

Sure, it wasn’t ideal, you lost time with seeing your friends on campus, but you made just enough money to find a small studio apartment and your grandparents were willing to help with whatever you needed. You were learning to take care of yourself alone, albeit with financial help. With the months passing, you were growing tired, not of your job, honestly you enjoyed the work you were doing, but college was tiring mentally and it ate up any free time you thought you were going to have. Nonetheless, you were doing okay in your classes, As and Bs, you were proud of yourself.

Though, as you sat in the silence of your apartment in the odd hours of the night due to insomnia, you felt so alone…

Your grandparents lived upstate, your friends were on campus near there, everything you knew and found comfort in from your hometown was so…far. It was getting difficult to field your grandparents calls, you were telling the truth, you were working hard, you were doing great in your classes, but you withheld the truth about your mental state.

Curled up under the covers, staring blankly at the yellowed paint of the wall opposite of the windows to your room, you couldn’t sleep. You have barely eaten recently, you know you lost some weight, and you haven’t slept properly in about a week but you were functioning somehow.

A part of you felt guilty. Guilty that you were feeling this depressed over something you would consider so trivial and guilty that your inability to regulate your mental stability that your soulmate was most likely suffering as well. Another part of you wanted to curl up in a corner and just ride it out the best you could, but you knew you had responsibilities to yourself, to your family, and to your soulmate to stay around.

Now in December, you already requested some time off around the holidays to see everyone. Deep down you were praying the time away from everything after finals would be able to help your melancholy mood.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #seventeen jihoon #woozi x reader #svt woozi #soulmate au #seventeen soulmate au #seventeen fic #svt x reader

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guystheresbeesuphere · 2 years

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The Arcana Head Canons !

What are they like drunk ?

Asra (´ ∀ ` *)

Drinks occasionally ! I feel like they like to let loose sometimes - but only plan on getting drunk drunk in smaller gatherings or amongst close friends <3

He is a content (?) sleepy kinda drunk

Like a snake lounging on a rock in the sun

Or a cat curled up in the blanket

Unbothered, Moisturized, Happy, in his lane, Focused, Flourishing

Very cuddly and clingy, but also kinda mischievous

“Come lie with meeeee” with uppies arms going on

Sprawled out over any vaguely soft surface

Including shrubbery, or just any soft looking patch of grass

Probably the type to try and do normal tasks like cooking but with zero coordination

Would make a huge mess trying to make a pb&j

That apprentice would have to clean up

His hangovers would probably only last a day or so, and not really that bad. They'd probably just stay in bed and sleep it off. If you mentioned anything he did he would probably just give you a shit-eating grin.

Julian ٩(＾◡＾)۶

Jules probably drinks the most out of everyone, bar maybe Nadia - he frequents taverns and bars… probably dragging the apprentice along with him.

Julian is the saddest of sad drunks

But not in a depressed and crying about life kinda way

But more in a like, sees a really cute cat and starts bawling his eyes out kinda way

Sees his friends/partner and gets all teary

would just hold your face in his hands and cry for a good 5 minutes before you could get a word out of him

“You’re the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me”

Gets tears all over your coat

You’d have to carry him home

To be fair, not too different from his usual self

Just with way more all over the place

He’d either have the worst hangovers known to man, or would just walk it off like a champ. If you mentioned anything he did, he would go bright red and stuttery: “I was drunk ! What do you expect of me?”

Muriel ╰(● ⋏ ●)╯

I feel like Muri isn’t one to get drunk often, if at all. He much prefers having his brain and body fully within his control. But when he does drink, he’s a real heavyweight.

If you versed him in a drinking game, you would lose

Complete blackout before he’s even a little tipsy

I think he’d be a very touchy feely drunk

Very clingy but also very quiet

Like, always holding apprentice's hand

Or petting their hair

Or just generally being quite sappy and cuddly

You’d literally need a crowbar to pry yourself out of his arms

He would fervently deny it afterwards though, when he came to

He would have a pretty bad hangover. But he’d insist that he’s fine and try to power through his daily tasks despite the fact. But with a bit of coaxing from the apprentice, he’d accept the help and sit down to rest for a bit. He'd probably just roll his eyes and grumble (well meaning ofc) at you, turning bright red if you mentioned anything from the night before.

Portia ꒰(･‿･)꒱

Portia probably views getting drunk in a similar way to Asra ! Like, enjoys having fun with friends occasionally, but not too often.

She would be a super loud, outgoing drunk

But in a super friendly

Slurring her words a lot, and probably slips a bit of random russian in there

Omg her accent getting really thick

Waahh okay thats actually hella cute to think about

Full of compliments and words of adoration

You wouldn’t be able to get her to shut up

Giggling over literally everything

She would be stumbling down drunk after like, 2 drinks though

Its apart of her charm ﾟ.*

I feel like she’d end her night by passing out in apprentices arms

Babbling nonsense and giggling all the while

I don't think she'd have bad hangovers though, but would play it up if it meant Apprentice would take care of her <3

Nadia (*´▽`*)

Nadia would drink quite frequently, as accompaniments to fancy dishes that require it. As a result, probably has a very high alcohol tolerance. But she never really drinks to get drunk though - to her, alcohol is meant to be tasted and enjoyed.

Its probably kind of hard to tell when she’s drunk

She’d laugh way more freely i think

And be way more cheeky

A mischievous glint in her eye

Very well versed in high society alcohol

Very knowledgeable on what to pair it with

Probably has her own fancy reserve too

She would also definitely be one to bust out the really nice booze when shes far too drunk to be able to appreciate it

Especially if the apprentice is there

She likes to spoil her friends/partners <3

I feel like, even drunk, she would make sure you were taken care of first - always trying to send you home with a fancy new bottle the morning after too.

Lucio (￢‿￢ )

I feel like the count is pretty average in terms of how much it takes to get him drunk - but he enjoys getting smashed as much as possible.

LOUD as hell

And completely UNAPOLOGETIC about it

Gets drunk a lot

Would 100% organize a party just to have a reason to get drunk

Everyday being himself is a day to celebrate ofc

Sometimes just does it without the party anyway

He would be super boastful and cocky

Probably trying to start fights (that he definitely wouldn’t win) with anyone and everyone

And saying things he shouldn’t

Would drag apprentice to every little event

Being a little shit to get your attention or make you laugh

I think he'd enjoy dragging the apprentice along just to see them loosen up and relax a bit - not that he'd admit it, but he'd go out of his way to make sure you were having fun too <3

and a cheeky little bonus !

Amias ! ( ´ ω ` )

Tends to only drink at social events or parties. But loves drinking games and competitions - could easily drink both jules and asra under the table.

He is definitely a sulky drunk.

just a big old 6'4 toddler

with Surprisingly co-ordination though

Good luck trying to stop him from climbing any Big Rock or Cool Tree he sees

Probably tries to fight inanimate objects.

And definitely cries when he loses.

Just Asra trying to console him,

“There there, Amias - you really showed that bin what for”

“*sniff* yeah?”

“Yeah <3 Now let’s get you to bed, big guy.”

“okay...”

And then he would promptly passout.

OHOHO but Amias and Asra drunk at the same time ?? Absolute menaces. The sheer tomfoolery and mischief they would get up to. Would definitely feed off of each other’s chaotic disaster energies. Getting the pair of them to do anything, or go anywhere while drunk is literally like herding cats. Very stubborn, unreasonable, toddler-esque cats.

#the arcana game #the arcana headcanons #asra alnazar #asra the arcana #julian devorak #julian the arcana #muriel #muriel the arcana #portia devorak #portia the arcana #nadia satrinava #Nadia the arcana #Count lucio #lucio the arcana #imagines #head canon #hcs #arcana game

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tothepointofinsanity · 4 months

Note

Hiii

I don't mean to like give unsolicited advice, but if you're having frequent nightmares I actually have experience with that. I tend to have nightmares in clumps- either I don't have dreams at all or I have nightmares daily, which can be really frustrating sometimes but you learn how to deal with it.

Heres what I found works for avoiding the big scare:

-Avoiding Spicy Food. Idk why but eating spicy food seems to make your brain more active at night whiiiich just leads to sum scary shenanigans

-Hot Milk. If your lactose intolerant or just don't like milk, tea works fine too, but something about Milk itself is very soothing especially mixed with honey. Knocks me right out.

-Meditation. Ik everyone says this one but lowkey i think it really does help. A troubled mind does lead to troubled dreams, and often times u get end to end nightmares if your dealing w stress or anxiety yk. Meditation rlly grounds a person and gets their brain used to being still again, altho there are lots of ways to achieve this even if u don't like meditating ygm

With all that said, I really really hope that ur nightmares come to an end soon ik it rlly sucks :/ WISHING U WELLLLL

Oh, hello sailor. ^_^ I’m flabbergasted that no one told me that the cultural diet and way of life that I’ve been living for the past…..entire life has apparently been contributing to the burden of my nightmares. Unfortunately I cannot part with spice as it would spiritually destroy me. I love being able to flex my spice tolerance and here I am paying the price of my hubris./lh

I actually do like drinking milk at night but I realised I only drink the refrigerated ones. Warm milk tastes strange. It seems like I’m doing everything within my power to do the opposite of what you recommended unintentionally. I do like to drink tea…as for meditation, I do believe it has its merits and I’m not so quick as to dismiss it considering a lot of my previous teachers have actually advised the same of me. Some even recommending yoga. Which only goes to show I may have Problems if the advice I keep getting is more or less the same. Meeting up with people actually effectively lessens my nightmares for whatever reason, which is why you’ll catch me mumbling about gallery dates any other alternate day. Anyways. I’ve observed my nightmares are only whenever I’m at home and never occur when I’m sleeping at the dormitory. Wonder if there’s anything up with that.

Nevertheless, I truly appreciate your concern and support. I think the truth is that I am actually just a troubled person with a troubled past and future and predisposed to having an ape brain that runs simulations on the most repulsive possibilities. Very common vein of possibilities in on itself. Person experiences bad things, their brain makes them remember it in different monstrous forms. Maybe I should really look into being medicated to calm my brain. Please take care as well…^^

#ASKS 💌

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twsthc · 1 year

Text

scarabia angst headcanons 🌞💔

⚠️ warnings: food anxiety, self destructive behavior, possible OCD triggers, kalim

last updated: july 30, 2023

KALIM AL-ASIM 🦦

has C-PTSD from the constant threat of death

mostly gets nightmares, flashbacks, anxious, etc of when he was poisoned and kidnapped or when jamil was poisoned "for" him

has coughed up blood, has seen jamil cough up blood

really tries to hide how much it still gets him so he doesnt worry anyone

super light sleeper. a cockroach tap the wall and his eyes would fly open

has food anxiety

needs someone to test the food before he does, or he needs to know jamil prepared it or he wont eat it

after his first time getting poisoned he wouldnt eat jamils cooking either

after jamil's OB, he stopped cooking and contacting kalim and things really spiraled out of control

stopped eating/drinking anything until he was forced to

was literally bmi 0.001 until a teacher had to step in and force some goat cheese down his throat

parents would pay for material items for their kids but not therapy

i think kalim might have done some crazy shit to make his parents notice him out of the quintillion other kids they have

also he was raised by servants instead of his own mother

because of all this Mental Illness (specifically C-PTSD) he does get panic attacks, as one with anxiety disorders does

he uses pain to ground himself in stressful moments (mostly his nails)

digs them into his palms or thighs, whatever hes closer to

or he scratches himself until he refocuses

got especially bad after jamils ob. imagine the person who kept u safe and basically raising u coming out and saying he secretly hated u

me personally i would kms

probably cries himself to sleep

type of fellow to be super happy one moment then hear a sad/soft song then become svicidal (me when im having a great day then hear any song by Lamp)

JAMIL VIPER 🐍

fully believe jamil has NPD

after growing up in an environment where he was put behind everyone else, his brain desperately needed to be put first

its really hard to find good symptoms of this disorder without seeing bullshit like "10 signs your partner is a narcissist" omfg

some ACTUAL symptoms of a narcassistic disorder (for jamil):

he has poor coping skills, often projects his anger onto others, has trouble maintaining relationships, often requires praise or he might feel obsolete/depressed

too good at hiding his feelings even in shitty situations

has boiling anger issues but is able to keep them repressed (at his own cost)

after his OB, he distanced himself from kalim to process

after 2-ish weeks, they talked it out and set some boundaries

the first week jamil didnt force-wake kalim up, kalim was consistently late to all her earlier classes and struggled a shit ton with work loads

she couldnt even pick out her own outfits without jamil going "that ones fine, now hurry up" every few seconds

had to establish that kalim needed to learn how to live without jamils coddling

kalim agreed ofc but still felt a little lonely without her usual schedule

also has anxiety from being poisoned, and still has lingering memories of being so worried when kalim was kidnapped

i also think jamil has OCD :3

"if i dont do ABC then kalim with XYZ"

has other impulses (flicking lights on and off, needing to feel "even" on both sides)

i hope someone w ocd reads this and understands wtf im talking about

when someone steps on your foot so you have to step on the other one or youll throw up because you dont feel the same amount of pain on both sides

#twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #kalim al asim #jamil viper #scarabia #angst #ocd girlies wya #twsthc

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lala1267 · 1 year

Text

Made it, ended it.

Summary: A young girl who came from a rough background just wanted to get her name out there. Her homelife feuled her drug use. She finally made it, but things took a turn for the worst

Warnings: mentions of suic1de, terrible mental health, abus1ve parents, swearing, death, drugs (pills, w33d), addictive drug use.

Wordcount: 8781

Notes: This is a very dark fic, so only read if you're comfortable. And btw, I'm using cher as an example of what Cora looks like.

Cora was just a poor girl living in the most dangerous part of town. There would be criminal activity happening everywhere. Drug dealers and criminals walked around the poor estate. At just six years old, she had to endure her father's violent beatings that usually eneded in bruises and tears, and her mother's wicked words that escaped her long frown. She was quiet, shy, and sad, all thanks to her horrendous parents. At the ripe age of 10 years old, she was put into foster care. Her foster parents weren't as bad as her biological parents, but they weren't loving either. They would leave her out and say horrible things to her as she cowered in the corner. They were unfit to look after their own children, never mind a foster child. They lived in Memphis in a small, run-down house that was on its last legs. Unfortunately, they couldn't afford clothes, food, bills, or anything. It was just like before. She could never escape poverty. The harsh words of her foster mother lingered in her head for years to come.

"Cora, stop touching our food. This ain't your house or your family. Now piss off ya stupid girl!"

She wasn't even allowed to eat food. Her ribs would poke out of her chest as her wrists shrunk and her body turned into a skeleton. She was in iternal suffering. Her neighbours would complain about the shouting and fighting. But no matter how much they complained, nothing changed.

Coral used to lay awake at night, fantasising about being famous and rich. She saw Elvis Presley on the big screens, and she would just imagine that it was her. All she wanted was money, power, and glory. She would sleep all day just so that she could be lost in the eternal universe of her wild dreams. She was just a kid who could only dream.

At fourteen, she was hit like a brick. She would just wish that she could escape this place, this dirty, unwelcoming house that she was trapped in. She had discovered the power that she felt when she was intoxicated. She discovered the world of drugs and depression. She would use drugs and liquor just to feel alive, almost like an escape from her lonley dark world. This was a growing problem for her.

"Ok, fine, I will only try it once." Turned into,

"It's only twice a week, it can't be that bad."

Turned into,

"It's only a few times a day, I will stop when I want too."

And just like that, she was unable to stop inhaling toxic smoke and drinking poison liquor. It was all fun and games until she wasn't able to draw the lines between the real and the fake. But she already brought a ticket, so there's was no turning back now. She was trapped in an endless cycle. As Coral's mental health plummeted, her drug use only increased. She had begun to see constilations in the sky and dark figures in her room, but they weren't real. It was just the drugs getting to her brain, slowly seeping into her brain. She was on a diet of pills, drugs, and alcohol. If someone gave her a new pill, then she would try it. If someone told her to kill her self than she would attempt it. She was a naive young girl who would do anything to get away from home, even if it meant ending her life.

She caked herself in makeup every morning, but all of the makeup in the world didn't make her feel any less insecure. She was a silly little girl with silly habits.

1968

Coral was now seventeen. She was still failing her classes and living off drugs. She wanted to get to a better place and live a better life. She fantasized about being at the top, looking down at her fans, and just screaming,

"I made it!"

She walked the halls of her school, scanning the posters on the walls. She was hoping to sign up to something, anything, as long as it helped her escape her dark, cruel place in life. She stopped in her tracks as her eyes lay on a large poster that read.

"Looking for actors!

A new movie starring the one and only, Elvis presley is looking for you! You don't need any qualifications or grades! If you are willing to join our production, be at Memphis City Hall at 10 am. Call us on:072425179."

Her eyes lit up but quickly dimmed as her insecurities came flooding back to her. There was no way that she could star in a movie. She was just a shy girl who lived off drugs. After a few seconds of staring at the poster with her empty eyes, she felt a hand on her shoulder, followed by a voice.

"Do it, you would make a good actor."

She turned to see who had spoken. She was met with her English teacher. She just looked at the man who stood before her with no expression before he smiled and walked away. She followed his body with her eyes as he walked along the long corridor and into a classroom. He gave her an ounce of hope.

'You know what, maybe I can do it, just maybe, I can make it one day.'

She thought to herself as she stood in the now empty corridor with a slight grin on her face.

The next day

Cora had woken up at 9 am. She wore a small cheap dress that was pink and studded with fabric flowers. Her long black hair trailed down her back and seeped over her shoulders. Her long eyelashes and tanned skin made her dark eyes misterious and sexy. She poudered makeup on her face as she thought to herself.

"God, I am so ugly. The other actors won't like this."

Coral cared about what others thought, she would worry about what people would think of her even though they never really saw her since she would hide in the shadows. She placed the brush and makeup onto the bathroom counter as she held back the sea of tears. She looked at her reflection in the cracked mirror. She was broken inside, and she couldn't be fixed. She ran to her room and pulled out her stash of weed from under her pillow. She found a piece of paper from a colouring book before she rolled up a spliff and put a flame to it with a lighter that she kept in her room. Each time the lighter clicked, the more desperate Cora became to breathe in the smoke. She brought the paper up to her soft lips. As she inhaled the smoke, she felt all of her worries slowly drain away. With the spliff in-between her red lips, she grabbed her stash of weed and the lighter and a few more pieces of paper before placing it in her cheap old handbag. This wasn't enough for Cora. She needed to feel alive if she was going to possibly star in a movie. She looked at the bed (the old mattress on the floor) she lifted it up to find all of her unperscribed pills that she had stolen. She grabbed a bottle of anti depressants and another bottle of an unknown drug. She opened them both up and tipped a handful of pills in her palm. Without thinking, she swallowed them whole and placed the bottles in her bag. It was only a matter of time for it to kick in, and then she would feel somewhat normal.

She walked down the sidewalk with her spliff in hand as the morning sunlight shined on her face. She was truly a beautiful girl, but she didn't see it. If she would just change her ways and get rid of all the drugs, just maybe she would be happy again. But she always thought that the drugs helped her. She walked for some time until she got to the City Hall. It was right in the middle of the city, the rich part of the city. She felt insecure and out of place as she looked around to see all of the pretty girls wearing designer dresses. She looked down at her cheap old dress before taking a deep breath and entering the grand building. She walked inside as her flat shoes dragged across the marble floor. A man asked her for her name before escorting her into a room with a large number of girls that filled the big space. They were all gorgeous.

The man tapped her on the shoulder before speaking.

"Just wait for your name to be called and then make your way through those doors."

He said as he pointed to the doors at the back of the room. She just nodded before taking a seat away from all of the other girls. She sat there patiently. She was secretly dreading for when her name would be called out, but she wanted to make a name for herself, so she had to do it. After a long thirty minutes of waiting in silence, her name was finally called through the speakers.

"Cora Magdelena."

The speaker said with a bit of uncertainty in their voice as they tried to pronounce her last name. She stood up as all of the eyes in the room turned to her. She could feel her face heat up as she walked towards the doors. Finally, she was through the doors of doom. A lot of high-profile men and women sat on one side of the room as she walked towards the centre of the room. Her hands trembled as her eyes wandered around the lavish room.

"Okay, so we are gonna give ya a script, and you have to read it out. Remember to show as much emotion as you can. We need good actors, not babies."

A man said as his eyes shot her confidence down. His words echoed through her mind before a script was shoved in her face by another high-profile man. She analysed the peice of paper for a few seconds. It was about a girl who was deeply in love, but the man of her dreams was drifting away. Cora felt her emotions cool as she realised that this was going to be easy for her to act out. All Cora had to do was channel her traumatic childhood into her acting so that it would seem more powerful. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"Oh Johnny, please don't leave, don't ever go away."

"Why would you do this? After everything I've done for you, you repay me like this."

She said as her beady eyes locked with the men and women watching her. But she had to do something to make it seem more real so that she would get the spot. On command, she let the sea of tears unleash from her cartoon eyes. She read the scrip so sweetly as the water glistened on her pretty face. Her her lips turned downwards, and her eyebrows furrowed. And before she knew it, she was done. She turned to the group of people in front of her as she wiped away her fake tears and dried her wet eyelashes. They all looked at her, jaws on the floor and eyes wide as they tried to comprehend her amazing acting skills. Cora just looked at them with a confused expression as she played with the end of her dress.

"Wow, we don't have any words. You've got the role!"

One man said with a huge smile on his face. Cora just smiled innocently before speaking quietly.

"Thank you so much."

She tried to play it off cool, but deep down, she was jumping and screaming. A fashionable lady walked towards her with a wide grin.

"We would like to put you on set straight away, if that's fine by you."

She said as her beady eyes met Cora's eyes.

"D-do I have to stay overnight?"

Cora asked with a slight stutter.

"Oh yes, you will be staying on production for weeks, maybe even months. But don't worry, we have trailers that you can live in on set."

Cora just nodded before she got escorted to another room, which held all of the actors that were going to be working on the movie. Cora just looked around the room in astonishment at all of the celebrities. Even Elvis Presley was there. But she quickly bowed her head down as she noticed that she was the odd one out again. She was wearing poor clothes unlike all of the other rich people.

"Ok girl, just sit yourself down, and we will explain everything soon."

The lady said as she patted Cora's back. She walked over to one of the only free chairs. It was hidden at the back of the room, secluded from everyone. She scanned the celebrities as she walked. She looked at Elvis, who was already looking at her surprisingly. She instantly looked away as she felt her face turn red and her hands quiver. She sat on her seat and waited patiently.

10 minutes later

A smart looking man stood in front of Cora and all of the other actors in the room.

"Ok, it seems that we have rounded up all of the official actors. We will allow you some time to head back home to collect all of your things because we will be travelling to another city for production. But first, you must all sign this form."

He said before some people walked around and began to hand out the confidential forms. Cora was given a letter and a pen. She read it and signed it.

"You are over 18:

[yes] > [no]"

She signed "yes" even though she knew damn well that she was only seventeen. But she needed the money. She was willing to lie. Once she had filled out the form, she had handed it back to the person who gave it to her. She was now free to go back home and pack her things. She was still comprehending how fast all of this was happening.

As she walked back into her dirty house, all that she could think about was how excited she was to finally get away from this place and finally get away from the hell that she was enduring. She ran up to her room and packed some cheap old clothes, makeup, and her pills and other drugs. Once she was done, she sprinted downstairs with the big beach bag that was full of her things. She opened the door and quickly ran off without closing it. She wasn't going to tell her foster parents where she was going since they wouldn't let her. She just ran until she reached the City Hall.

She walked through the grand doors once again and into the same room that she was in not long before. She sat back down in her seat and patiently waited for the same man to speak again.

"Now that all of you are here, we can start to get on the busses. You will have assigned seats on the busses, and you will all sit in order of the alphabet. You must sit on the seats that say the first letter of your surname. Now, let's get going. Shall we."

Once he was done with his speech, the actors all stood up and walked outside to the busses. Cora boarded the bus before looking for her letter. Her last name began with an 'M', so she was assigned to sit on the seats that read 'M-P'. Her heart began to race, and her breath quickened as she saw Elvis sitting in one of the four seats on the row. But no one else was sitting next to him. This meant that she was going to be the only one sitting next to him. Her heart fell to her stomach as her eyes met his.

'Just suck it up, he doesn't bite.'

She thought to herself before she awkwardly stepped over his legs to get to the window seat, as far away as possible from him. There were two seats between them. She placed her bag and handbag under her seat before slouching back into her seat. It was going to be an hour ride. She was tired and exhausted, so she couldn't help but doze off. She turned her back to Elvis and curled up into a ball before closing her eyes. Little did she know, Elvis was looking at her. His eyes traced her small figure before he smiled slightly. He slowly moved up to the seat next to her. Cora was already in a deep sleep by the time that Elvis moved closer.

After twenty minutes, Cora turned around and rested her head on Elvis's shoulder whilst still sleeping. Elvis let out a slight giggle before he brought one of his arms up to wrap around her. He played with her long black hair and toyed with the fabric flowers on her dress like a curious child. Cora was gradually woken by his soft touch. She slowly opened her tired eyes and tilted her head up towards his face. She instantly leaned away from him.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, I really didn't know that I was leanin-"

"It's ok, darlin', it was comfy.

Elvis said with a gleam in his hypnotising eyes. Cora just smiled awkwardly before looking out of the window, shielding her bright red face. Her hair was still messy from when she was sleeping on Elvis, and her dress was slightly creased. She let out a sigh as she saw the state of herself through the reflection, all of her insecurities popped back into her brain. All she could think about Is how ugly and stupid she thought she was. As she continued to gaze into the reflection of herself on the window, a single tear travelled down her red cheek, leaving a wet trail behind. She instantly bent over to grab her hand bag from under her seat. She opened it and pulled out a piece of tissue. She brought it up to her cheek and wiped away the liquid. Elvis looked at her with worry written on his face.

"Why are ya crying, honey?"

"Oh, m-me, I'm not crying. Just a watery eye, you know."

She replied as she tried to shield her face with her long, luscious hair. She instantly closed her small bag before Elvis had a chance to see all of the pills and drugs that were stuffed in there. Elvis just nodded awkwardly before turning away to talk to one of the other actors. Cora just silently sobbed with her head turned away from Elvis. For the rest of the ride, she was just rethinking her life. She pulled out her journal from her bag and a pen. She began to pour out all of her feelings and problems onto the thin paper pages. And before she knew it, she had written over twenty pages. She placed her journal back into her bag before continuing to look through the window for the rest of the ride.

Soon, the bus came to a complete stop, and everyone had stood up to exit the bus. Cora was the last one to exit the bus as she let everyone go in front of her and use her as a doormat. She stepped off the bus and was instantly met with a large gust of wind that made her hair fly. She walked inside of the building that they had been driven to. It was a large building that was quite similar to the City Hall. She walked over to the group of actors that gathered around the director.

"Ok, everyone, we will be starting to film in a few minutes since we were a bit late. Just find a trailer through those doors and get settled in".

Cora and all of the other actors walked doutside to find a trailer in the trailer park. Cora found one that settled nicely at the back, far away from the other actor's ones. She opened the door and stepped inside. It was quite and nice, nicer than her house. She placed her bags onto the single bed. She quickly pulled out a few pills from her bag and harshly swallowed them. The sting lingered in her throat. She looked into the window that separated her insane self from the dark, corrupted world. Nothing existed past the windowsill when she was intoxicated. She quickly walked back out into the trailer park.

The director had already began leading the actors to do their scenes elsewhere. Cora stood there, patiently waiting for him to come back. But she wasn't the only one waiting, Elvis was also waiting. He stood a few feet away from her as she avoided eye contact. He kept on looking at her with lust in his eyes. His sneaky eyes were quickly torn off Cora when the director came back to the both of them.

"So Cora, you are going to be playing Emma Davies. Elvis, you are going to be playing Mike Lennon. You are going to start your first scene by flirting and chatting. Then Elvis is going to kiss you, but remember, it's only acting, don't be too nervous."

The director stated, as he made direct eye contact with Cora, who had a wave of panic wash over her. She brought her trembling hand up to toy with her long hair as her face flushed red.

"But we gotta get you to dolled up first. We don't need you to be dressed like...that."

The director said as he looked Cora up and down with his judging eyes. His energy changed from warm and welcoming to sly and rude.

"Just follow me, guys."

Cora and Elvis walked side by side behind the director until they reached the makeup room. It was quite a small space, with only two chairs for Elvis and Cora. It had a large vanity in front of each chair, and a dressing room was hidden in the corner with a curtain for a door. Elvis and Cora sat in the chairs as the director left the room. They sat there, waiting for the makeup artists to arrive.

"Well, I think they're running a lil' late."

Elvis said with a chuckle. Cora just fake smiled before looking down at the floor. Elvis turned to her, and he looked at her shy figure.

"You don't talk much, do ya."

He stated before pulling her hair behind her ear so that he could see her pretty face. She turned to him and looked at his grin in confusion.

"You're really pretty."

He said with a smile.

"Stop being a people pleaser."

She said as her expression turned cold before she pulled her hair out of Elvis's fingers. Elvis just looked at her with a downturned smile.

"Don't be like that, you're beautiful."

Elvis said in a soft and sweet tone. Cora just lifted her brows up and rolled her eyes. Moments later, the makeup artists walked through the door before plotting their things down on the vanity in front of Elvis and Cora. They instantly got to work, and they waisted no time. They had only just started, and Elvis was already chatting away and giggling with them. Meanwhile, Cora sat there in silence, stook in her own draining thoughts. She had zoned out. She sat there staring at the vanity that seemed to turn different colours and distort. She moved her eyes to the mirror. Her reflection was wobbling and shaking. The pills were kicking in. She lifted her hand up to her face. It separated and twisted. She saw constilations in the room that weren't real. She felt like she was in heaven. She was tapped out of her thoughts when she felt the makeup artists hand on her shoulder. She looked into the reflection at the lady behind her. She seemed to be saying something, but Cora was struggling to process or even hear her words since her heartbeat was echoing in her head. She squinted her eyes as she attempted to snap out of her high.

"I said change into this!"

The makeup artist snapped as everyone in the room went silent. Cora finally heard her and just nodded as she looked around the room and all of the eyes on her. The room was spinning and shaking. Elvis leaned towards her and furrowed his brows.

"Are ya ok?"

He asked inoccently as he lifted his hand up to touch her forehead.

"Well ya don't have a temperature."

He said before removing his large hand. Cora just stared at him for a few seconds before breaking the silence.

"N-no, wait, I mean yes, i-im fine."

She said as she slurred her words. The makeup artists looked at her in confusion as she got up and dragged her weak body to the dressing room. Once she was in the dressing room, she instantly fell to the floor. Her chest heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. She sat there, drowning in her feelings before she forced herself up off the cold tile floor.

"Suck it up, breathe."

She breathlesy whispered to herself before stripping off. She threw her clothes onto the floor before putting a lavish dress on. She struggled to put it on. Once it was on, she looked at the mirror. She sighed as she looked at the broken, insecure girl that gazed back at her. She turned to the side and sucked her belly in.

"We don't have time, Caroline, or whatever your name is."

A female voice called from outside of the changing area. Cora gulped before pushing the curtains aside and walking out. Elvis's eyes moved straight to her body, which was sculpted into the tight dress that was a dark blue and studded with diamonds that shimmered and shined. He was blinded by her jewellery. The makeup artists had an evil look of jealousy written all over their faces as they shot Cora down with their cold gaze.

"My job is done here. Wait for your hairstylist."

One of the ladies said before walking out of the door. Cora sat down awkwardly as Elvis got up to go and change into his outfit. He walked out in a white and blue suit. He looked drop-dead gorgeous. Cora just looked at him in amazement as she tried to keep her droopy eyelids from closing. The rest of the makeup artists left the room as Elvis walked over to his seat and sat down. Elvis leaned forward and grabbed a half full water bottle that he had already drank from. He held it out in front of Cora, who was trying to stay awake.

"Drink this. It will wake ya up a bit."

Cora eyed the water bottle before reaching her weak hand out to pick it up. She unscrewed the cap and brought it up to her pink lips. She tipped the liquid into her mouth and swallowed harshly. Once she was done, she handed it back to Elvis.

"Thanks."

She said quietly before slouching in her chair again.

"Those makeup artists were a bit-"

He was cut off by the hairstylists that made their way through the door. They got to work right away.

20 minutes later

Cora's hair was in a classic sixties updo with a blue head band placed on her head. Elvis's hair was jelled back, leaving one stray hair to hang in front of his handsome face.

"Ok, all done. Good luck, Elvis."

One of the hairstylists said as she leaned down towards Elvis in the chair and gave him a seductive kiss on the cheek. Elvis raised his eyebrows and flashed a cheeky smile as he watched the hairstylists walk out. Cora just rolled her tired eyes before standing up. She struggled to get to her feet, but she felt less high since the water had clensed her insides. She walked out of the room and into the production area that was right outside. Elvis followed behind her, secretly playing with her long black hair. They were both placed in the centre of the room. A large chandelier hung above then, lighting up their faces. They were given scrips and had some time to memorise it. But their time was over when the director yelled.

"Action!"

They instantly began to act out the romantic scene. Elvis held her hands as he looked deeply into her dark eyes.

"You're looking beautiful tonight, m'lady."

"You don't look too bad yourself. However, I still need to pay you back since you have spent so much money on me."

Cora said as she got lost in his dreamy eyes. She was still high, but she was still nailing this scene.

"And how are ya gonna do that, darling?"

"Like this."

Cora said. Her anxiety began to creep back up on her, and her heart pounded even faster. But the job had to be done, so she did it. She cupped Elvis's face with her hands that were glammed out with rings and bracelets. She slowly lifted her body up so that she could reach him. And finally, their lips met in a romantic kiss. Cora wasn't enjoying this at all, but Elvis seemed to be loving every second of it. Soon after, Cora pulled away and flashed a smile at Elvis. The light shot diamonds from his eyes.

"Cut!"

The director yelled.

"That was amazing guys, now you can go and get some rest. Our next scene will be in an hour."

The director said as the cameras turned off and the tapes stopped rolling. Cora let out a sigh before walking out of the production set and into the trailer park.

She made her way towards her trailer. She opened the door and stepped inside. She was met with all of her outfits for shooting, layed out over her bed. She appreciated that someone was so kind to bring her outfits, but she was too high to care. She removed her dress and deeply exhaled. The dress was so tight that it left deep red marks around her chest and belly. She walked over to the little closet and placed all of the outfits in it, including the dress that she had just taken off. Once she had finished, she grabbed some fresh panties and a tight tank top. She was planning to stay inside her trailer until the next scene, so she didn't care what she was wearing. She slipped the clothes on before grabbing her journal that rested on the bed. She lay down and grabbed a pen. She wrote all of her struggles onto the pages. When she wrote, she felt a sense of relief. Her emotions were no longer a part of her mind. Instead, they were all in the journal. After around twenty minutes of writing, a nock sounded from the trailer door. She rolled her eyes before getting up slowly. She struggled to maintain her balance since she was still too high in the clouds. She stumbled over to the door before opening it to be met with Elvis.

"Hiya, I just wanted to say that you did really well on set."

She just looked at him blankly before replying.

"Ok, thanks."

She said as she looked into his eyes. He seemed like he wanted something or her to say something. Elvis's eyes wandered towards her chest. She wasn't wearing a bra, and it was pretty obvious. She quickly crossed her arms over he breasts. That didn't stop him. Next, his eyes moved towards her lower half. She was only wearing panties.

"Ok bye."

She said as she shut the door rather quickly. Elvis was instantly snapped out of his dirty fantasies when he heard the door slam shut, and Cora's perfect body was no longer in his view. He walked off, defeated.

After all of the scenes were finished - 8 pm

Cora had been through a stressful day. Her scenes gave her terrible anxiety, and the fact that Elvis kept on trying to talk to her didn't make it much better. She sat in her bed in the trailer. She wore short shorts and a tight little crop top, with no bra. She sat in her bed, rummaging through her handbag like a mad girl. She was overwhelmed with emotion, and she needed an escape again. She pulled out her weed. Just the thought of her possibly being famous made her excited but nervous. Her past kept on flickering in her brain, and her abusive biological parents kept on showing up in the constilations she saw. Her foster parents' harsh words echoed through her ears. She rolled up a spliff, she then flicked a lighter until she saw the bright orange flame. She placed the paper in between her soft lips as she held the flame up to it. She stood up and quietly walked outside whilst inhaling the smoke. She leaned her back against the side of the trailer so that she was out of sight. She could feel the sea of tears getting ready to be unleashed with each puff she took. Her breath grew shaky, and so did her hands. The night sky began to spin, and the stars turned different colours. Her hand was moving out of sight as the dark world was spinning. She couldn't hear a thing. She could only hear her heart beating continuously. She was slightly startled when she felt a hand pull the spliff from in-between her lips and throw it on the cold floor. She looked up to see who had done it. It was Elvis. She squinted her droopy eyes to get a better look at the man.

"Hey, that's mine."

Cora said with a slight tone.

"Not anymore."

He said as he stopped her hand from grabbing the spliff that was on the floor.

"You're so rude."

"You shouldn't be smoking on that, it's bad for ya."

He said as he looked at her face, which was lit up by the pale moonlight. Her features popped as her bloodshot eyes looked into his.

"How old are ya."

"Don't tell anyone.".

She said with a sigh as she looked at him with her pleading eyes.

"I won't, just tell me, doll."

"Seventeen."

She said before looking down at the floor as a wave of regret rose upon her. His face dropped as he looked at her in suprise.

"But you have to be eighteen to work on set."

He said with confusion in his deep voice. She rolled her eyes before replying.

"Don't you think I know that? I just...need the money"

She said quietly. His brows furrowed.

"What do you mean, are a poor."

He said as kindly as possible. She felt a tear run down her face as she tried to find her words.

"Y-yeah i am. I'm gonna go to bed."

She said as she brushed past Elvis but was stopped when she felt his large hand grasp hers. She turned around slowly to look at his sad face. He pulled her closer before stroking her hair.

"If you ever need anyone or anything, you can always come to me."

He said as he cupped her rosy cheeks that were glistening with tears. She just looked up at him before nodding and disappearing into her trailer.

The next morning

Cora slept like a sleeping beauty in her bed. Her hair spralled out over the pillow, and her red cheeks glowed. The door quietly creeked open, letting the smallest amount of sunlight into the small trailer. Then came in Elvis. His hair was messy, and his eyes were dreamy. He scanned the room to find Cora asleep. He walked around the space. He seemed to be searching for something. He wanted to see if she had any more marjuana stashed around somewhere. He didn't want a young girl like herself to fall into an endless drug addiction. But it was already too late. He looked inside the wardrobe and the cupboards. His eyes set on the pink journal that lay beside Cora. He took a few silent steps forward. His nosyeness got the best of him as he reached down to grab the journal. He looked at the sleeping beauty that rested a few feet away from him before standing up right with the journal in his large hands. He opened the journal and scanned the pages with his glassy eyes. His brows furrowed as his hand rose up to cover his frown. He felt his heart sink into a dark pit as he saw the words in black ink.

"I just hate it here, I hate my foster parents, I hate everything. But

they are better than my real parents. I can just remember the way my father hit me and took the words right out of my mouth. I just want to get away. There isn't a point in living if I'm just gonna be miserable."

"The drugs don't seem to be helping that much anymore, I've taken many pills and puffs today, but I still want to die. I don't know how much longer this can keep up."

"I've got a role on a set of a movie. I'm really nervous even though I have taken a handful of pills this morning and in my trailer."

Elvis's eyes began to get watery as his hands covered his mouth. He was shocked and disheartened that such a young girl had to go through this. He was appalled that she had such dark thoughts. He just wanted to do whatever he could to help her. His attention was quickly brought to Cora when she shouted.

"What are you doing!?"

Her once sweet eyes were now menacing as she stood up out of the bed to rush over to Elvis. She rapidly snatched the journal from him as her eyes filled with tears.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Didn't mean to what? Read MY private journal?!"

He was interrupted by her snappy voice that grew louder.

"How much did you even read anyway?!"

She snapped.

"I don't know, like a few pages."

He said before letting out a defeated sigh. He was apologetic, but he seemed to grow more angry the more she carried on shouting. Her voice peirced through his ears as he tried to hold his rage in. This was the calm before the storm.

"Oh my fucking god! Yes, I read it, but what am i meant to do now? I've said sorry how many fucking times and you're still shouting. Just shut the fuck up!"

He yelled as he hit the wall with his strong fist. Cora was instantly silenced. She flinched as Elvis hit the wall. The tears in her eyes ran down her face and dropped onto the floor that they stood on. Elvis's face calmed as he had realised what he had done. Almost instantly, he pulled her into a tight hug. His big hands ran through her hair as his sweet words rang through her ears.

"Oh no, I'm sorry honey, I'm sorry."

Cora sobbed until she had no tears left to cry. The smell of his cologne against his chest lingered in her nose. Her hands rested on his chest as his arms wrapped around her figure. He pulled away from her to look down into her watery eyes.

"I will always be here if ya need to talk. Why don't ya stay at my trailer."

He said before Cora nodded in agreement. She turned around to pick up her bags and follow Elvis out off the door. They walked into his trailer. Cora rested her bags next to the bed before she planted herself on the edge of the bed. Elvis stood in front of her. She looked up into his eyes as he bent down to cup her rosy cheeks. Without thinking, Elvis's lips met Cora's. They fell into a passionate kiss. Cora felt tingles in her heart as his tongue traced around hers. Elvis only had eyes for Cora. There was no doubt about it. He was a lover boy who was showerd in diamonds and glory. Cora was just a poor girl trying to make a name for herself. They both pulled away before grins rose on both of their faces. Elvis was a smooth operator, he was a dream.

As the weeks flew by, Elvis and Cora grew closer. They would sleep in the same bed and share the same food. During rehearsals, scenes, breaks, and spare time, Cora would be with Elvis. He was the only person who seemed to care for her. He was the only person who looked after her. She was only young and nieve. She needed an older man's love to keep her suicidal self going. Her mental health slowly got better, but her drug use didn't. She took two handfuls of pills a day and smoked at every chance she got. She was slowly killing herself. Whenever she inhaled or swallowed these illegal substances, she had to hide from Elvis. She would sneak out of the trailer at midnight. She would hide the pills and drugs in her bra, under the bed, in her stocking, and every nook and cranny. It was so tiring, but that was the only way she felt alive. Even if she tried to stop the drugs, she would still manage to get stuck with it all over again. It was almost like she was trapped in a world of drugs and pills. She lay awake many nights, wondering how she had ended up in this place, in this life, where she couldn't get away from the drugs. She didn't have a problem lying to herself.

"Oh I will stop when I want to, it's not that bad."

She thought to herself as she harshly swallowed yet another handful of pills. It was a never-ending hell. She just wanted to sheild Elvis from that part of her life, she wanted to protect him. Even though he had read some of her diary and caught her smoking, he still had no idea how much she was suffering. She was slowly dying. But she always put on a smile so that Elvis would think she was getting better.

After the movie was finished

Her and Elvis walked out of the production set for the last time. They stepped out of the grand doors and into the world of fame. Cora was stunned when she was bombarded by paparazzi and fans. She would have thought that they would shout Elvis's name, but to her suprise, they were shouting hers.

"Cora! You did so good!"

"I love you, Cora!"

Fans screamed and cheered. They obviously shouted Elvis's name aswell but Cora was so surprised that she heard her name come out of people's mouths. She waved bye to Elvis as she entered the limo that waited for her, only her. She sat down in the limo with a grin on her face. She had made it all by herself.

A year later

Cora was only eighteen and was already making six figures and signing checks. She had brought herself a lavish mansion in the city of Los Vegas. She had always been hungry for fane and she finally had it in her hands. She would go on shopping sprees and spend thousands, her hair was always flawless and so were her clothes. There was nothing in her closet that wasn't designer. Diamonds were her best freind. She had found a new confidence, she had found a new personality. As she rose to fame, her attitude grew. If someone were to insult her, she would snap back like strong liquor. She put up a confident, sassy image, but deep down, she was still that shy insecure little girl. She was finally separated from her traumatic childhood, but she wasn't separated from the world of drugs and alcohol. The fame had opened her eyes. On moonlit nights, she would be on the cold marble floor, kicking and crying like a bullied child as she felt the pills and drugs eating her insides, her breathless words echoed around the empty room. But that didn't stop her. She needed more. She needed more drugs to fulfil her high. She was plummeting to her doom. She needed help.

The awards evening

Cora sat in the VIP section of the audience. She was struggling to keep her eyes open as she swallowed even more liquor from the glass of wine that was glued to her hand. Elvis sat on the same table as her, and it was obvious that she wasn't ok. As the cameras flashed and the audience roared, she felt a hand grab hers. She was pulled away into a bathroom. She struggled to maintain her balance as the door closed. A blurred man stood in front of her as she squinted her bloodshot eyes. His mouth was moving, but no words came out of it. Cora was in a different world. She had no idea what was even going on. Her vision became fairly decent when the man clapped his large hands loudly.

"Cora, you need to stop it with the drugs. It's not good for ya."

Elvis stated loudly as he cupped his hand under the running water coming from the sink.

"W-what drugs."

Cora said as she felt her knees weaken.

"Don't be stupid. You are always drunk or high, and it's painfully obvious."

Cora's face scrunched as she pointed her finger in Elvis's face.

"Listen, it's none of your b-buisness about what goes on in my life. And i-im not drunk!"

She snapped as her words slurred. Elvis brung his hand that was filled with water up to Cora's red lips. He forced her to swallow as he spoke.

"Not drunk? you are fucking killing yourself! Now drink, it will sober you up so that you don't make a fool of yourself out there."

Elvis wiped her wet mouth with the pad of his thumb as tears ran down her red cheeks.

"Don't start crying now, there isn't anything to cry about."

Elvis said in a raspy tone as he shot her a look. Her eyes darkened as her emotions fueled.

"You don't know half of what happened in my life, I have every fucking reason to cry!"

She yelled as she pushed past the man standing before her. She quickly fell to the cold floor when she felt the gravity fail on her. She lay there, sprawled out across the cold marble, sobbing like a baby. It was deja vu. She had been in this position many times before. Elvis rushed over to her weak body that rested on the floor. He lifted her up before he sat with his back on the wall with Cora laying on his torso. She cried into his chest that radiated his expensive cologne.

"Hush, Hush, darling. It's ok, baby."

He whispered into her ear as his hands gently hugged her. He knew that Cora was going on a straight path to hell. He knew that the drugs would soon start to eat her alive.

Another year later

Cora and Elvis were best friends. They would hang out together. They would chat for hours it was like they were meant to be. Elvis's feelings for her only grew stronger as time passed. He would dream about her every night and think about her every day. She was his dream girl. Cora had gotten everything she wanted in life, money, power, and glory. She had gotten everything she ever dreamed of. But that came with consequences. She would be stalked by paparazzi and mobbed by fans. She would be hated on by people that she had never even met. They would say vile things. This only feuled her drug use. She played a confident girl who was mentally stable, but she was the polar opposite.

Elvis was out in town looking for a floral shop. He finally wanted to confess his feelings to Cora. He entered a local shop. He looked around to see all of the glamorous flowers. They came in all sorts of colours, and some of them were even studded with glitter. He walked around as he scanned each and every one of the coulerfull plants. His eyes lit up when he saw a bouquet of pink and white roses. The plastic that wrapped around it was white and sprayed with glitter. He reached his hand out to grab the bouquet. His eyes examined it for a while before he made his way to the counter. He placed a twenty dollar bill on the wooden surface before saying.

"Keep the change."

He exited the shop with a wide grin. Whilst he was making his way up to Cora's house, Cora was fighting for her life on the living room carpet. She had overdosed. Her helpless crys echoed around the empty room that was spinning. She could feel her insides slowly disintegrating. She felt as if her heart was bleeding. Elvis was pulling up into the driveway. Time was ticking. Her breath began to slow as her eyelids began to close. The bottle of pills on the coffee table fell to the floor as her tears absorbed in the lavish carpet. Elvis nocked on the grande wooden door, but there was no answer. He carried on nocking until he took matters into his own hands. He twisted the golden door knob as he stepped into the mansion. Her turned into quiet whimpers as her heartbeat slowed. Elvis looked around to see where she was. As Elvis was looking around the house, cora was in the process of taking her last breath. She inhaled one last time before her eyes rolled back and her body powered off. Elvis finally looked in the living room. To his suprise, he was greeted with Cora's lifeless body on the red carpet. His eyes widened in shock as he dropped the bouquet on the floor. He ran over to her, pulling her up off the floor and into his arms.

"Cora, Cora, wake up!"

He shouted as he shook her corpse. His eyes filled with tears whilst he attempted to bring her back to life. He shouted and cried like a lost puppy. Her skin was pale, and her heart wasn't beating. Mabey for him there was a tomorrow, but for Cora, it was the end of days. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he finally accepted that she was gone forever.

Always check up on the people you love before it's too late.

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