spencer beckett

[spencerbeckett]

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𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘯... whispered secrets, button down shirts, nervous laughter, sharing a milkshake, fake smiles, restless nights, sneaking out, empty beer bottles, inferiority complexes, and "no dad, it's your dream!"

FULL NAME: Spencer Charles Beckett NICKNAMES: Spence, Beck, Beckett DATE OF BIRTH: October 14, 1978 AGE: 25 ZODIAC SIGN: Libra BIRTHPLACE: Atlantic Landing, NJ CURRENT RESIDENCE: His parent's house JOB: Part-time employee at Bend Records SEXUALITY: Bisexual 

FAMILY: Charles Beckett (father), Margaret Beckett (mother)

OCCUPATION: part time employee at bend records, part time youth hockey coach CHARACTER INSPIRATION: Steve Harrington (Stranger Things), Summer Roberts (The OC), Joey Tribbiani (Friends), Conrad Fisher (The Summer I Turned Pretty), Bucky Barnes (MCU), Connell Whaldron (Normal People), Lucas Sinclair (Stranger Things)

personality

+ empathetic, friendly, kind - naive, selfcentered, insecure

headcanons 

Started working part-time at Bend after his dad insisted that he needed to get off of his ass and get a job. Picking the store in particular was his own little act of a rebellion, since it was a place he knew his stuck-up father would despise.

Spencer is basically a walking stereotype. Star athlete, prom king… he used to have it all! Everyone was sure he was going to get the hell out of Atlantic Landing and do great things. He did go...for a year before flunking out. Apparently being good at hockey could buy his ticket in, but couldn't sustain him. Who knew you actually needed good grades?

Going to school was his only ticket out. With no work ethic to be heard of and no money from his parents, there was next to no chance he'd be able to survive on his own. So, back to Atlantic Landing he went.

Still lives at home, but is trying to save up enough money to get his own place. His rush is only slowed down by the fact that his parents are almost never home, often gone on business trips or vacations Spencer isn’t invited to.

TW: Child abuse mention

Has a complicated relationship with his parents, and his father in particular. The Beckett patriarch has always seen him as a huge disappointment and his failure to do anything grand with his life thus far has only cemented that idea. The three of them should have Oscars with how easily they play the roles of the perfect family on the outside, but it would only take one conversation with their neighbors to know just how much of an act it is. Screaming matches, slamming doors, and Spencer's more than occasional black eyes whenever his parents were home all evidence that there was much more hiding under the surface.

End TW

Spencer obviously hung out with the popular crowd in school, he was pretty much the de facto leader of it. Unfortunately, he was a lackadaisical leader, oblivious to any big problems outside of his own. He wasn't outright cruel for the most part, but he wasn't doing anything to stop the people around him. Getting dumped by all his friends when they left town was a huge hit to his ego, but at least it made him look in the mirror.

He feels really awful about the way he acted growing up, so he does whatever he can to try and make up for it. A little guilt trip goes a long way and it's pretty easy to convince him to do most things within reason.

He really doesn't have the best music taste, but he's trying! Really though, it's probably better to stick him on doing something that doesn't involve him giving music recommendations to customers.

Huge flirt, romantic at heart, but rarely gets past a date or two.

JUST finished having his bisexual crisis, not that he really wants to talk about it, but he's not hiding it either.

Plays on beer league hockey and softball teams and WILL try to convince you to come to a game and/or join the team.

[immaculatcs]

Austen tilted her head at him, considering his responses. His laugh helped. The nervousness, too. It was disarming in a way she didn't expect, which irritated her just a little bit. She took a sip of her coffee, letting the warmth and sweetness buy her a little bit of time. There were two ways she could go about this. She could decide to just self-sabotage it, chastise him for something or in an unprecedented thought, she could just enjoy herself.

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't just keep my nose stuck in a book when I'm not at work," she said, but there was a faint smile curling at the edge of her lips. She didn't take any actual offense. "Call it morbid curiosity. I figured I should figure out what exactly it is that normal and emotionally well adjusted people my age do." And it didn't help that Moosh had slightly gotten under her skin asking about her love life.

"You didn't think I'd say yes?"' Austen bounced back, her hands releasing from her cup. She wasn't being coy; she knew she had a certain amount of qualities that set her apart from others. Still, it always bewildered her that someone would think she would outright say no. "What? Let me guess. You think I'm too uptight?"

[spencerbeckett]

"I don't think anyone would call me normal or emotionally well-adjusted," Spencer has to laugh again, warmth mixed with self-deprecation, probably not the best thing to point out on a first date, "Is anyone really those things in their twenties, though?" Smooth, Spence.

He takes a sip of his drink to shut himself up for a second, hoping that the mug could somehow mask his anxiety. Sometimes he wonders why he can't seem to hold down a relationship, opening his mouth helps it make sense.

"Not uptight, no," his voice softens, his eyes earnest, it's not a line, "Just way out of my league."

[merrittstone]

closed starter for spencer beckett ( @spencerbeckett ) -> the stones' kitchen

"Mmkay, so, say that you're on a deserted island. Literally all alone. You're lucky enough to have access to three records on this island - shut up, don't give me any shit about how that doesnt make any sense - to listen to until you get rescued. If you get rescued. Which ones do you pick?"

Merritt sits on the counter, her eyebrows raised as she pops an olive into her mouth.

"No judgement, but like, full judgment."

[spencerbeckett]

For someone who works in a record store, Spencer really should have better taste in music. Or really, any taste in music. He sort of just listens to whatever they play on 104.5 without much regard of what the songs were called or who they were by. He's acquired a few records and cds in his year at Bend, sticking out like sore thumbs among the classical albums his mother thought made them all look smarter.

"Merritt, do you hate me? Why are you making me answer your riddles?" he teases, hip pressing into the counter beside her, "I guess uh- Help!, A Rush of Blood to the Head, and Parachutes." So maybe he just really likes Coldplay.

"What about you? No judgement, for real."

[sullngirl-a]

“hey, i thought we were lying for sport.” this time, when her eyes dart to his, she doesn’t find him looking back at her. it’s a nice change of pace, and, self-indulgently, it lets fallon study his profile without interruption. she follows the lines and slopes of his silhouette, unfamiliar now to her. he’s changed a lot since she knew him. really, she doesn’t know much about him at all anymore. before spencer was afraid of being friends with her, fallon used to sit sideline for his games. she wasn’t much of a cheerleader but later, when the game was over and he’d finished celebrating with his team, she’d listen quietly as he recounted all of his favorite moments. “bummer.” it’s not the right thing to say, but she rarely concerns herself with that. she downs the last of her lemonade. “you used to be really good.”

[spencerbeckett]

"We're both pretty good at that," he's not sure where the sentiment comes from or if it's even earned, for all he knows he's the only real liar of the pair. He'd lied so much in high school that at some point it had become second nature, almost pathological. Sometimes for necessity, other times for the hell of it, almost anything was easier than telling the truth.

Spencer nods, inhaling smoke past the lump caught in his throat. He is not going to cry at a fucking party, in front of Fallon of all people, over his broken dreams. That would be way too pathetic, not to mention cliche. "Yeah, I was," he clears his throat, shifts from one foot to the other, "You know what they say, those who can't do teach. Or uh- coach, I guess."

[genuineloner]

The Stones’ party was the type of environment to change your mind about things. Bunny thought this as they climbed back up the basement stairs for the front porch; whether you were a friend of Milo’s (and Bunny figured Milo had many) from who knew where or one of the Bend Records crew (Bunny had been hanging with Fallon and Moosh down there), the combination of pleasant atmosphere and alcohol (which Bunny had definitely partaken in…) made not opening up impossible.

Made concerns easier to forget.

Perhaps that was why, when Bunny emerged from the front door and found Spencer Beckett relaxing in a beach chair, cheeks flushed from a night of festivity, they immediately sat down next to him.

The golden boy from high school. The one everyone’d either had a crush on or been trying not to have a crush on; the star athlete, the prom king, etcetera etcetera. Spencer Beckett, the phenomenon.

Spencer Beckett—the one person that, if asked, Bunny would say they’d probably never be able to talk to normally.

(The differences were just too great. The…way Spencer was, and the way Bunny liked to be—some things weren’t meant to be overcome, no matter how many shifts the two had worked together, no matter how much time had passed.

Spencer would never understand Bunny. That was—and really, that should’ve been—The End.)

But there Bunny was, looking over at Spencer…and there Spencer was, looking back. With a look on his face that suggested he—wonder of wonders (Bunny almost debated if they were seeing things)—didn’t mind Bunny stopping by.

…Spencer was drunk. Thank God—so was Bunny.

At Spencer’s mention of the stars, Bunny instantly turned their head to see them for themself. They were…well, they looked normal, but Bunny understood why a Spencer Beckett enjoying a peaceful moment alone would appreciate them.

…Actually, Spencer had a very valid point. The longer Bunny looked, the more their foggy head convinced them as well that, yes, the stars were “fuckin’ whoa”.

“Spencer, we’re trashed,” Bunny acknowledged before anything else. “We’re trashed, and we’re turning to the night sky for entertainment, like—I don’t know—some settlers on the Oregon Trail.” (Spencer and Bunny had shared a US History class.)

“But.” Bunny turned to Spencer and returned the grin, if not as winningly. They found the movement easy—like letting the alcohol in their system and the things that had gone unsaid between them during their time at Bend take the lead.

“...I think it’s, actually, worth remembering: nights like these are special." Bunny’s sentimentality coming out—a rare sight. “Stars, and—and hanging out with people for hours when you pride yourself on not caring about that kind of thing, and finding out that—wow!!—you were probably wrong about yourself there…”

Bunny chuckled to themself. “Or at least that was my night.”

They sighed. “Spencer Beckett, be bluntly honest with me. Would you ever have thought back in grade school that the two of us would be not just coworkers, but at the same event—sitting next to each other, even!

“Is that a future you would’ve even liked back then?”

And Bunny looked back at the starry sky, and they finished their thought with:

“I would’ve killed for the chance to have a single conversation about deep shit with you.”

[spencerbeckett]

"I fucking sucked at that game, I always died of dysentery or got crushed by my own fuckin' wagon wheel," he huffs, because the Oregon Trail game is really all he remembered about that U.S. History class, besides the whole trying not to stare at Bunny across the room thing. He's nodding along like he understands even half the words coming out of their mouth before his eyebrows are shooting up into his hairline, taken aback by their bluntness.

"I... sort of thought I'd be playing in the NHL right now, so no, I didn't ever think we'd be coworkers. Unless you've got some hockey career you've been keeping a secret," he chuckles, the idea that Bunny doesn't know just how much teenage Spencer would have liked the idea of them sitting next to each other suddenly amusing to him.

Bunny's next sentence has him flushing a shade deeper, the chuckle turning into something closer to a giggle. God, he's so fucking drunk. He should really shut up.

"Would you believe me if I told you I would have, too?" he grins, "You would've been disappointed, though. I was a fucking idiot."

[arwenla]

Arwen hated how gentle his voice was, a contrast that was world's away from any tone she had ever heard from him before. I don't like being locked in places either - why did he understand, without her even having to say it? Ew. Ugh.

No one shut us in here on purpose - Arwen wanted to scream.

No one's trying to keep us trapped.

Out of spite, she could've ignored him, insisted on her own misery out of spite. That sneaking little twinge in her, though, the unmistakable feeling of weight dropping out of her chest... It told her to give in. A breath flooded into her lungs, steadier than the previous one. Her eyes flickered up toward him; they were red, wet. Crying in front of Spencer Beckett was nearly just as bad of a nightmare.

It's a long moment that she looks at him, silence echoing off the walls around them. Arwen realizes she's nodding a second too late to stop herself.

"Right," Having to admit he was right, just another tally on ways that this day sucked, "Nobody is..." She can't bring herself to finish the sentence. Too vulnerable. Too broken to convince her own brain that this wasn't going to be some three-day-long stay, starving, and miserable, and -

"Why are you being so nice to me?" It wasn't much better, but she figured it would be easier than focusing on the walls that were closing in on her.

[spencerbeckett]

The reminder is helpful for him, too. That this wasn't all some elaborate torture plot or something, even though these days his life does kind of feel like a series of Saw traps. He feels himself let out a little huff of relief as Arwen nods, politely ignoring the fact that she'd started to cry. It wasn't like she had anything to be embarrassed of, something bad had obviously happened to her in the past, and he'd cried more tears over less.

"Because you're upset and I'm not a total monster."

Silence falls over them for a few moments before he speaks again, surprising himself. "I had this coach growing up who, uh- well, you know how there's a penalty box in hockey?" he doesn't wait for an answer, "They're not supposed to lock, but he figured out a way to rig the one in our rink. And when I played a bad game he... I fixed it when I started coaching and I still hate going in there."

[immaculatcs]

Austen Winslow did not date. Anyone who had ever tried to cross the gates of the Winslow home knew that Reggie Winslow wasn't letting his daughter out unless it was for school or an extracurricular. Dating was for after university. Now that Austen was a graduate? Well, she had decided to make room in her schedule to pencil in just one lucky person.

Enter Spencer Beckett. Everything about him screamed potential partner. And as crazy as Austen knew it was to be thinking that far ahead, she knew what she wanted and dating multiple people to wittle that down? That was not in her playbook. Instead, all potential suitors had to meet Austen Winslow's Hierarchy of Needs.

One, must be handsome in the way that Hugh Grant is. Check.

Two, must have suitable genetic traits to pass down to future lineages. Check. Check.

Three, must be able to to hold a conversation to Austen's own caliber. Ch-

Well, that's what the first date was for.

"Chivalry? In this economy?" Austen teased lightly as she dropped into the seat he held out. "I have to say Beckett, color me impressed." Then she noticed the latte. The latte for her. He remembered something like that?

"Hot vanilla latte," she parroted as she pulled it closer, the steam already warming her fingers. "Yeah, that's... that's totally right." There was a tiny flicker behind her eyes, an involuntary softening that she immediately tried to stuff down. She couldn't let herself be seduced by something as simple as a coffee order, but still? Did many remember such a thing?

Of course, the Winslow girl had an agenda for this date. She knew Spencer went on plenty of dates, that wasn't exactly a secret, but yet she couldn't help but ask, "So, what made it my turn in your little black book? Run out of numbers to call?"

[spencerbeckett]

Spencer knows he has a reputation and it's not like it wasn't earned, it just usually wasn't brought up so quickly on a first date. His explanations all feel like a double-edged sword, there really wasn't an explanation for going on a million dates and coming out with no partner on the other side that made him look good.

"It's not like that," he laughs softly, nervous, "I've wanted to ask you out for awhile I just... didn't think you'd actually say yes. I was waiting for the perfect opportunity, I guess." He pauses, taking a sip from his own drink, "Why'd you say yes? Nothing better to do with your day off?"

[sullngirl-a]

fallon looks over at him curiously, an eyebrow quirked. they’ll have to come to a head sometime but sure, they can dance around it, beat around the bush a little. “i thought it was obvious.” she knows this slope well, knows just how slippery it can get— it’s not a path to go down twice. she lies through her teeth, “i just wanted to go for a smoke.” fallon reaches for the cigarette again, without him offering. “when did you start anyway?”

[spencerbeckett]

Spencer feels like they're teetering on the edge of something, though he can't quite tell if it's good or bad. Bad probably. He wishes he could swat away the negativity, but at some point in the past ten years it's settled into his bones. He has a million other fuckups that he'd rather confront than what he would probably consider to be his biggest, but here he was talking to her anyway. As if he hadn't let her slip through his fingers twice.

"You mean you wanted to bum a smoke," he corrects, finally tearing his eyes away from her. It was easier to stare when he wasn't the one under the microscope, which is how he feels now, even after the simplest of questions. "Around the same time I stopped being an NHL prospect," he shrugs, reaching into his pocket for the rest of his pack, "Keep it."

[spencerbeckett]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: @genuineloner

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓: rip spencer you would have loved crush by david archuleta

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: outside of the stone’s house

Spencer isn’t sloppy, but he’s certainly drunk, the amount of beers and shots he’d knocked back long forgotten. The world is sort of blurry, his limbs loose and tingly, and mind quieter than it was when he’d walked in the door. He might regret it in the morning, but he certainly doesn’t now. He’s not sure exactly how long he’s been outside, lounging on a beach chair despite the chilly weather, eyes trained up on the stars. There’s a pleasant haze around them, drawing him in, so much that he barely registers someone approaching at first.

His head lifts slowly, glassy eyes training on Bunny, attention captured as if he was looking at some sort of angel rather than an ex-classmate and current coworker. Spencer remembers the day the schoolboy crush bloomed in his chest— he was seventeen and stupid, passing notes rather than taking them in English class. He’d seen them around, sure, but something had been different that day. Their eyeliner, maybe, making their green eyes pop in a way that Spencer had never noticed before. Warmth had spread through his chest and to his cheeks, butterflies had erupted in his stomach, and then he forced himself to look away. Shoved those feelings into a box he never intended to open again. Every now and then he would catch himself staring, daydreaming a little, which was where the ignoring began. It wasn’t as if they talked anyway, so it was easy enough. At least, until Spencer started working at Bend. Though, he’s still full of mumbled, one-word answers when they’re on shift together. Things dropped or knocked over by nervous hands, perpetually distracted. It’s nothing serious and nothing he’s ashamed of, but they’re unattainable, best left to wondering. He remembers being the one on the other side of those sort of actions and he wonders if this is how some of his less popular classmates in high school felt about him. God, they were all doomed.

“Hey,” there’s a slight slur of his words through a lopsided grin, the flush that was already on his face from the alcohol deepening, before he drops his head back down, “You seen the stars tonight? They’re fuckin’… woah.”

[lbelongiiu]

STAND BY ME (1986) dir. Rob Reiner

[sullngirl-a]

it’s not that she went out there so he would follow her, but a part of her had known that they’d end up here eventually. the november chill washes over her; she draws a breath, deep and even. on purpose, fallon doesn’t look at spencer when he emerges from the basement. maybe there’s still a chance they’ll continue ignoring each other. or not. fallon regards the cigarette for a moment. wordlessly, she plucks it from his fingers and takes a long drag, lets the nicotine relax her. smoke spills past her lips as she exhales. “is that why you’ve been staring? just dying to check in on my bad habits?” another, smaller puff and she hands the cigarette back over.

[spencerbeckett]

There's no use in trying to pretend he wasn't staring, even someone with a much weaker bullshit detector than her's would be able to tell it was a lie. At least now that they're speaking he has an excuse for looking at her, a steady gaze as he listens to her answer, as he leans over and takes the cigarette back. "Something like that," he nods as he inhales, then turns his face to blow the smoke away from her on the exhale, "What's your excuse?"

[spencerbeckett]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: @immaculatcs 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓: first (and probably last) date! 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: java the hut

Dates were never the most comfortable thing for Spencer, even when his average was significantly higher than it is now. There was a fine balance back then, of being Spencer Beckett: High School Hockey Star and Spencer: Potential Boyfriend Material. For as much of an asshole as he could be, he was never that way with the girls he dated. He leaned closer to who he felt he really was underneath of it all, but showing the most sensitive parts of himself felt so terrifying that it was nearly impossible. Not to mention that most of the girls he went out with expected the former and were quickly let down when his bravado slipped. So, it was no wonder that none of his relationships had ever lasted all that long.

Austen is pretty much exactly his type. Smart and beautiful, sure of herself in a way that he'd only ever pretended to be. He admired how put together she was, the respect she commanded without cruelty, her sometimes blunt honesty. It had taken awhile for him to build up the confidence to ask her out and he'd nearly swallowed his tongue when she actually said yes. Spencer had been sure he was setting himself up for a rejection, so this whole thing was a pleasant surprise.

"Hey," there's a shy smile on his lips when he sees Austen enter the coffee shop and he's instantly on his feet to pull her chair out, "I already ordered. I got you a uh- hot vanilla latte, that's your drink, right?" He'd filed that into his memory the last time he'd run out to grab everyone coffee, but now he's starting to think it was a little presumptuous of him to assume she'd want the same thing every time. "But if you want something different I can go get it. No big deal."

[giantcd]

Milo didn't buy Spencer's whole always good bit, even for a second. Not with the way Spencer shrugged or how his shoulders hung too low. Not with the way he had basically funneled the entire beer down his throat.

But, Milo didn't call him out on it. That's wasn't a cool move. Besides, the best place to forget about any of that? The Stone basement. Milo lowered himself onto the arm of the couch, letting his legs stretch out.

"Yeah," Milo said, tipping the neck of his own beer toward Spencer, "you're always good. Just like how I'm about as graceful as a baby gazelle. Total facts."

But, there was humor in his voice, the kind that didn't poke too hard at the other. He already knew that people gave Spencer shit around town. Nothing Milo would have experienced. He had been in sports, he had the build and height for it, but he wasn't a star athlete.

"The babes," Milo brought the conversation around to something else. Deflect. Always a good move. "Any new babes on the market?"

[spencerbeckett]

Spencer feels like he's being a little ridiculous, 'overdramatic and too sensitive' as his father would put it. If you asked his parents they would say he always felt things a little too deeply, took everything too personally. Maybe that's why his dad had thrown him into hockey so young, to toughen him up.

His smile at Milo's comments is closer to a real one this time, but he's still grateful for the topic change. Despite the rejection he'd felt earlier in the night, he does have some sort of romance going for him. At least, he thinks so. "Yeah, uh- I've actually got a date with Austen this weekend," he shrugs like it's no big deal, but his grin gives him away. Austen didn't seem like the type to agree on a date with just anyone, so even the acceptance has made him feel special, worthy in a way. "She's really cool, you know? Super pretty, too. I'm psyched."

"What about you? Anyone catch your eye? I heard Stella and Nathan are off again, if either of them are your type or whatever."

[arwenla]

It’s instinct when Arwen pulls her knees in closer toward herself, not flinching but freezing in the face of his actions. What would he do next? Why get too close? Her muscles relaxed when the answer seemed to be nothing —then tensed once again with twin realization that he hadn’t even recognized her until this very moment.

“Seriously, dude?” Arwen didn’t have to say more; the context was written on the tension hanging between them. She couldn’t say it surprised her, that someone she couldn’t erase had forgotten her. It had happened time and time again: foster parents, social workers, family. Why should Spencer be any different?

“If you tried to hurt me,” Arwen snapped, “I would rip your stupid balls off.” It was the most confident she would be for a moment, though, as she chewed over the reassurance. Someone would come find them soon, they surely wouldn’t die in here. The mantra only worked once through before Arwen was back on her feet.

She would die in here. Arwen’s heart would stop beating out of spite, the walls would cave in, a meteor would strike exactly where they were —

Hands are pounding against the door again, her voice hoarse over the sounds of shouting. It’s only a minute of effort, though, before Arwen rests her forehead against the door. Breathe, idiot. Just breathe.

She couldn’t. Her lungs were constricting, her skin was on fire. The urge to curl up on the floor, germs be dammed, pulsed through her, broken only by Spencer. “I hate it here,” Arwen swore, “I hate this stupid record store.”

[spencerbeckett]

Spencer can't help the low chuckle that escapes him at Arwen's threat, mostly because he has no doubt that she would have no problem following through. His hands go up, palms out to show his innocence, "Wouldn't blame you."

And then she's freaking out again, panicking in a way that he'd only ever really seen in the mirror, and he doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do. If it was someone else, someone who hadn't been on the other side of his bullying, it might be a little easier. But how was he supposed to calm the situation down when just his presence was making it worse?

"Hey, I know this is scary, I don't like being locked in places either. But it's gonna be okay, alright?" his voice is more gentle than he thought he was capable of as he stands up and approaches her slowly, head leaning down to try and meet her eyes while still keeping a healthy distance, "You're right, it's just a stupid record store. No one shut us in here on purpose, no one's trying to keep us trapped. We just gotta wait it out a little longer, okay? I know for a fact Stella is on shift and she has the bladder of a squirrel, so she'll probably be down here any minute trying to yank the door open. And then someone will come help, yeah?"

[spencerbeckett]

aren't you just like, a little wounded nobody put you on their top six? washed up, if you ask me!

Nah, 'cause your mom put me on hers. Crazy I beat you for #1, huh?

[davidsfincher]

The whole point of making amends is to fulfill rule number three. 

[bendrecordshq]

HONESTY HOUR IS OFFICIALLY LIVE!

got a question about your bestie's top six ? did you move down a spot ? move up ? just really curious why certain people made the cut ? now's the time to lock in and ask ! p.s. you can totally use this as another way to harass your co-workers either on or off anon !

members, if you would like to participate in honesty hour, please reblog this on your account(s) ! please be sure that if you reblog to actively be participating and sending asks to other members as well !