#I’m only four books into this series so far but I am already hooked

[sillylildude]

Slowly making my way through Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series (in a terribly out-of-order fashion of course). Just finished Color of Magic and oh my god? Oh???? My god?????? THE ENDING??????????

I am unwell.

[qslovebot]

Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

[critrolesideblog]

Evening falls in the Pearlbow Wilderness with the last of the autumn leaves. A bitter wind heralds the coming of winter as it rattles its way through the skeletal trees, and the veil of gray that has been pulled across the sky all day awaits its cue to blanket the world beneath with snow. So, when a golden-amber light shines briefly in the wilderness, halfway between Erdeloch and Kaltenloch, there is no mistaking it for dying sunlight, which has not been seen by these tree trunks for some time, and it is little surprise at all, when a man with hair the color of a hearthfire appears out of the light with the soft crunch and thump of sturdy boots meeting forest floor.

The man looks north briefly, and then turns in a slow, clockwise circle, his azure eyes, bruised from lack of sleep, searching for any sign of his quarry. He hears the familiar, chittering call of an elf owl, and watches it take to the sky in a flutter of feathers and rustle of tree branches. A smile pulls on one side of his lips, and he hopes the bird is a good omen as he turns the slow circle again, but he finds only trees, trees, and more trees. The wind, delighted to have a new orange toy at its disposal, tugs excitedly at his hair. "Go where the wind blows, I suppose," he says with a sigh, and the leaves on the ground agree quietly that it is really the only sensible way to be getting along.

As he sets off west-northwest, he reaches into one of his coat's many pockets to touch the trinket housed there. It is a small thing, barely larger than a gold coin. He stole it over a year prior from a place far east of here. He turns it over in his pocket four times, before methodically tracing the design on its face with his thumb, a new habit he has picked up in recent weeks as he has searched for the woman it reminds him of.

Night arrives quickly in the autumnal wilderness, and cold quickly follows suit. Luckily, the man knows a thing or two about light and heat. He produces a flame in his unpocketed hand as quickly and easily as most people breathe. Most trees would be perturbed at the sudden appearance of fire in their midst, but the trees of this forest are old and delight in the man's bright magic. You are so close, they whisper as the wind glides across their branches. She is just there. The snow, sensing its cue, begins to fall then, kissing the man on the top of his head, shoulders, and cheeks, melting against his skin like a lover. Come, come, the flurries beckon. You are very close. He does not hear them, but he feels a renewed determination, or perhaps stubbornness, as he sets his shoulders and forges ahead.

It is the light he notices first. He extinguishes the flame in his hand, thinking it a possible trick of eye, but no, he can definitely glimpse a glimmer of light up ahead. He notices the trees next, the way they have created a path for him, their branches curling elegantly overhead like living archways. Finally, pace quickening, he catches the scent of woodsmoke and food on the air. As he gets closer, the glimmer coalesces into a series of arcane lights, like too-still fireflies, leading a path up to the door of a home, now visible in the clearing, and wreathing it in gold. He feels a pang of nostalgia as he is reminded of a tree, far away, glowing with daylight in a city of eternal night.

He blames this rush of sentimentality for his lack of caution as he steps through the final archway. He does not sense the arcane wire until he has already tripped it. He hisses in pain, flinching backward, as bright, white light sears his retinas. Old habit brings his hands instinctively level with his face, palms outward, a position of readiness disguised as surrender. He hears what can only be the door ahead opening with a groan, and a woman's voice calls out from the light, full-throated and wary.

"Who's there?"

"My name is Caleb, Caleb Widogast." He replies, trying his best to keep his voice level and calm, despite his mounting discomfort at the fact that he cannot see. "I mean you no harm. I am looking for someone. I believe her name is Torvi. I met her once, some years ago, and I wish to speak with her, if I may." He pauses to allow a reply, but all he hears is the wind in the branches and the faint crackle of a fire. He can feel his pulse thumping nervously in his throat. He ventures to speak again. "I," he pauses, considering how direct he should be. "I met her in-- in a place called--"

"I know what the place is called." The woman's voice is not soft exactly, but it is no longer quite so sharp. The lights dim back to their firefly glow. "You are not the first person from Vergessen to find their way here." He thinks it might be sadness he hears in her voice and ventures to open his eyes slowly.

As the black splotches on his vision reduce, the woman comes slowly into focus. He notices first the book in a sling on her hip, dark leather stark against the golden yellow of her dress. Next, the dishcloth in her hands, giving the impression of being caught in the middle of a chore and undoubtedly hiding any number of spell components. It is not Torvi. Torvi's face is the first clear memory he has after ... after. He thinks he sees a resemblance, in the shape of her eyes, the sweet-apple roundness of her cheekbones, the broad curve of her nose, the pointed slope of her ears. Her jaw is different, though, more square, her shoulders more broad, her stature just a bit too tall. "May I ask who you are?"

"I'm Maeve, Torvi's sister." She beckons him with a tilt of her head. "Come on in."

Caleb approaches with greater caution this time, as Maeve steps back, opening the door further. He casts Detect Magic with a practiced twist of his hand and spots no further traps on the path ahead of him -- at least, none that are currently activated. There are, however, a dozen different wards that he can see around the perimeter of the clearing and a dozen more traps besides. It is some of the most intricately woven Abjuration magic he has had the pleasure of witnessing, and he regrets, for just an instant before he steps through the doorway, that he does not have time right now to investigate it further.

His beleaguered eyes adjust to the candle and firelight of the interior to take in a simple but well-appointed home. There are cabinets and a large work bench along the far wall. Herbs of all varieties hang from the rafters. There is a bookcase filled to bursting with books of all sizes, some of which glow with magic. There is a large dining table, crowned with a steaming cauldron of stew, and there, in a chair by the hearthfire, is Torvi. She has a blanket pulled around her, and she is leaning against one side of the armchair, her arm curled beneath her chin as a pillow, gazing into the hearthfire, seemingly lost in thought, or perhaps, just lost. She gives no indication that she has noticed him enter.

He has had weeks to get used to the idea of her being alive and not dead, as he had assumed her to be from the moment Ikithon took posession of her holy symbol all those years ago, but no amount of mental preparation could have prepared him for the experience of seeing her there exactly as he remembered her.

"This will hurt." The first words to cut through the clouds in a decade, as the heart-shaped face of a half-Elven woman, with dark-brown skin and sunlight-on-honey eyes, comes into focus, her warm hands caressing his face. "Like saltwater on a wound, it is necessary. There is so much you may yet do." Her expression shifts, then, from an apologetic smile to slack-jawed awe. Her eyes are bright as they rove across his face. "I see the face of Corellon in you."

Now that he is within the warmth of the home, Caleb cannot attribute the tingling numbness in his face and hands to the cold. His heart pounds against his ribcage, as desperate to escape as he suddenly is, but he manages to draw in a deep, shaky breath. Breathe, he reminds himself. He  grips the charm in his pocket with all his strength, such as it is, and takes a deep breath again. Eins, swei, drei... It takes him a moment to realize that Maeve is looking at him expectantly. "Sorry?" He croaks.

"I said, if you want to speak with her, you'll have to wait, but if you're not in a hurry, she'll come around soon enough."

"Ah, ja, I can wait." He picks a point on Maeve's cheek, just below her eyes, to fix his gaze upon. Stay on task, Widogast. "I had hoped to speak with you as well. Perhaps, we can do that first." One of her eyebrows quirks upward.

"Alright," she says, after a moment. "We can do that over dinner. You can set your coat and things there" Though her words are phrased as suggestions, her voice rings with the authority of someone used to being listened to, as she motions to a coat rack by the door. Her eyes flick to his pocketed hand. There is still a wariness in the set of her shoulders, and the dishcloth still partly obscures one of her hands. Ah.

Caleb nods in acquiescence and acknowledgment, one paranoid arcanist to another, and removes the hand from his pocket slowly, palming the trinket as he does so. He turns away from her and divests himself of his scarf and coat, keeping the trinket in hand all the while. He keeps his eyes on the wood floor, the cob wall, the curling leaf design of the wooden coat hooks. When he turns back, Maeve has set three places at the dining table. "Ah, none for me, please," he says, waving a staying hand as he crosses to the table. She pauses, ladle suspended in midair, and her eyes pass over his thin form, even thinner now that he no longer has his coat, in frank, skeptical appraisal. Judging by the unimpressed look on her face, she finds him wanting.

"We feed our guests around here," she says, in the same authoritative tone, and ladles soup into each of the three bowls. Caleb's lips form a thin line, briefly, the only outward indication of his inward prickling at this insistence, but he quickly clears the frown from his face. He wants her amenable to his request, and if he has to eat a little, in spite of the knotted nerves residing where his stomach should be, so be it. He notices that his bowl, at least, is more broth than vegetable as Maeve retrieves a large loaf of crusty bread from a cupboard, tears off a large piece for each of them, and settles into the seat across the table from him. "So," she says, before digging into her bowl. "What did you wish to speak to me about?"

Caleb takes a deep breath. "Are you familiar with a man by the name of Trent Ikithon?"

Maeve stills. Her eyes meet Caleb's, wary and discerning. "I know of him -- he is one of the members of the Cerberus Assembly -- but I have never met him."

"Count yourself lucky," Caleb says, forcing his face into a wry smile. He launches into a monologue he has rehearsed many times over the past few weeks, detailing some of the crimes of his former mentor, how Ikithon used Vergessen as a base of operations, the ordeal of his trial and imprisonment, the nigh certainty of the involvement of other Assembly members in Ikithon's crimes, and the painstaking, fruitless search to find anyone willing to testify against them. Maeve's eyes stay on him all the while as she takes in every word with a quiet, steadfast focus that reminds him of another wizard he knows. "So," he says at last, after pausing to eat a small bite of broth-soaked bread. "If there is any evidence you can offer, any testimony of anything you or your sister might have witnessed --"

"No."

Caleb blinks once, twice, three times. "No?"

"No," she repeats, softly. "I admire what you are doing, but we cannot help you."

"If you are afraid of reprisals, I can assure you--"

"I'm fairly certain you can assure nothing where the Assembly is involved," she says, with a cynical smile, "no matter how powerful you or your friends with the Cobalt Soul are. But, nevertheless, I have no evidence to offer. I witnessed nothing, aside from my sister's declining health, which is too circumstantial to be helpful, and any evidence she might offer would not stand up in court of law."

Caleb's shoulders and head curl forward as her words hit him like a blow to the chest. He hazards a glance at the woman by the fire, who has not moved over the course of their conversation. "Is she so unwell?"

". . . No." Maeve drags the word out into two syllables. "She is much better than she was, but..." She taps a quick staccato rhythm against the side of her bowl with her spoon, before gazing across the room at her sister. "Torvi was not insane before she went to Vergessen, only inconvenient. When she was a teenager, she began performing miracles and wonders around our village, and she was not shy about declaring their provenance. She was always blessing people that they may 'walk in Corellon's beauty' or 'may the light of the Archeart guide them.'" Caleb's heart sinks as he guesses where this story is going. Maeve shrugs, her gaze dropping back to her bowl. "We got fined every time the Reapers came to town. The villagers didn't care, so long as their kid was healed or their shop brought in coin -- a blessing was a blessing. But she didn't stop there. She also went after the priest to the All-Hammer that kept the shrine in our village. She said he worshiped the Empire, not the Gods."

"I bet that made her a lot of friends in high places."

Maeve gives a snort of humorless laughter at this, her cynical smile returning. "No kidding. My parents made a deal with the lawmaster: instead of sending her to jail, they agreed that her worship of "false gods"--" she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers "-- was a sign of her obvious madness, and sent her to Vergessen instead." She pushes her soup around the bowl with her spoon. "They thought they were doing her a kindness. But, regardless," her eyes flash up to catch his, hard with grim certainty. "Even if she was completely well, I think we both know the word of a convicted heretic and idolator is worth very little in the eyes of the law."

Caleb rubs his tired eyes with a sigh, as his left hand worries at the charm. He has so much work yet to do. Da'leth, Margolin, Tversky -- they were all too close to the Volstrucker program not to have been involved. They had to be removed from power for any real change to take place, and his search for concrete evidence and testimony had been so fruitless. When he had found record of Torvi's discharge from Vergessen, it ... it had felt like a sign, he admits to himself, cringing a little at the irrationality of it. A sign that perhaps he was on the verge of a breakthrough. He unfurls his hand to reveal the trinket: a small disc of silver engraved with two moons backed by a four-pointed star.

Maeve, glimpsing the symbol, tilts her head curiously. "Are you a devotee of Corellon?"

The idea that someone could mistake him for a devotee of any god is strange enough to make him fumble the charm as he turns it over again in his hand. "Ah, I cannot say so, no. I have never been much for religion."

Maeve's gestures with her chin toward the book holstered at his side. "Why bother with the fickle will of Gods when us mortals can achieve so much on our own?" It is not really a question. There is a book on her own hip after all.

Caleb nods. "That is part of it." He turns the charm over in his hand again, and a memory rises to the surface of his mind: the soft, rhythmic clack-clack of wooden prayer beads as they sift through his mother's clever fingers. She kneels before the shrine of Pelor, eyes closed, the dawn light shining off her burnished copper hair, prayers whispering earnestly through her lips. Much good that it did her. "For a long time, it seemed to me the supposed benevolence of the gods was nothing but a cruel joke." Bless my son that he may live always in Your light. "My view is a bit softer now, but ..." Bless our Empire that we may bring light to the dark corners of the world.

Maeve nods. Her eyes gleam with a cold anger. "I rage at that one, sometimes," she says, her eyes darting toward the moonlit star in his hand. "And argue -- one-sided." A wry smile twists her lips.

The sudden scrape of metal on metal makes both of their heads turn at once toward the front window. It opens with a creak and in hops a tiny elf owl.

Maeve rises and crosses quickly to the window. "You've been eavesdropping, haven't you?" She asks, as she closes the window with a sharp snap. "It's very rude to keep your guest waiting." The owl's head swivels to gaze at Caleb, and he recognizes immediately the familiar glow of Fey magic in the bird's eyes. With another little hop, it takes flight from the window sill and lands on the table a foot from him. There is a long moment of silence as the bird looks him over, this way and that, and -- pip, pip, pip-- hops a little closer, faerie fire still burning its eyes.

Caleb remembers well the safe, comforting distance of viewing the world through a familiar's eyes. "I had a little owl like you once," he says, softly. A smile tugs at his lips as he remembers Frumpkin perched on Beau's shoulder, his tiny feathers ruffled by the ocean breeze. "Well, he was a cat really, but he was an owl for a little while."

"She is a bigger owl really," says the first voice he remembers from Vergessen. "But she is small for right now."

Caleb takes a deep breath. Eins, swei, drei... He forces himself to tear his eyes from the safe visage of the little bird and face her. She is not quite looking at him, but she is facing his direction now. He can see clearly now that the light reflected in her upturned eyes is not fire but Fey. "Do-- do you remember me, Schwester?"

"Of course, I do," she says, voice soft and warm.

Caleb rubs his thumb over the design on the charm one last time. "I brought this for you," he says, holding it out for the owl to inspect. "To replace the one that was taken." The owl bobs its head this way and that in a circular motion, and then snaps up the trinket so quickly that Caleb barely has time to worry for his fingers before the bird is midair again. She lands on the back of the chair, dropping the charm onto Torvi's waiting palm. Her hand closes around it, and as it does, the light in her eyes grows and brightens until they shine like twin stars from her face. They are bright enough that Caleb is not able to look at her long without needing to avert his weary eyes. It is not unlike the ways he has seen Jester and Caduceus' magic manifest at times, and he wonders what visions her deity is granting her, as Maeve resumes her seat across from him.

The room is quiet for a long while, save for the crackle of the hearthfire and the occasional scrape of Maeve's spoon against her bowl. The tiny owl is beginning to doze on the back of the chair, when the light disappears from Torvi's eyes with a blink, and she looks down at the trinket with her own eyes for the first time. "Beautiful," she whispers, as errant tears spill down her cheeks.

"Schwester..." It feels cruel to ask, another sin to add to the pile, but she is here now. Really here, and he has traveled all this way. He has to ask. "Schwester, is there anything you remember about your time at Vergessen, any evidence you can offer, any direction you can point me in, to help me bring down those who used that place for evil?"

Still gazing at the talisman, she tilts her head in a way that reminds Caleb of a curious bird and seems to consider his question for a moment. "You were the first one I restored in that place," she says at last. "Half mad and half cursed, so young and so full of Corellon's beauty and magic." The ghost of a smile curls around her lips as she rubs her thumb over the design on the charm in much the same way Caleb had a moment before. "And now you have done so many beautiful and important things." And ugly and terrible things, Caleb thinks wryly. The scales are not yet balanced.

"I just need to do a little more, Schwester." A phantom, stinging itch starts up in his forearms, and his fingers worry against each other for lack of the charm to turn between them.

Torvi's eyes meet his without warning, and he is caught like a startled creature in the sudden glimpse of sunlight.

"Fuck, if I ever have to sit in a courtroom again, it'll be too fuckin' soon," Beau says, stretching in the dim lamplight outside the tavern. He makes a noise of agreement, and she glances at him. "Y'know, Yasha's got some unfinished business in Xhorhas. We've been talking about taking off for a few weeks, few months maybe, to go back to her old stomping grounds..." She looks at Caleb sidelong, and he can read the concern in the slight shift in the pitch of her voice, the rising of her shoulders, the tilt of her head, though she plays it off well. He knows he looks like shit. It turned out listening to weeks of testimony against his abuser was not a great aid to his already-fitful sleep.

"Gut." He says, and he means it. "It will be good for her to get some closure. She deserves it, and you both deserve some time to yourselves." He offers her a smile he hopes is reassuring.

She nods, and between one breath and the next, her arms are around him. He allows himself to lean into her vice-like grip, hugging her back as hard as he can. "Take it easy, while we're gone, alright, man? We'll kick some more Assembly ass when we get back." She releases him at last and gives him a pat on the cheek. "Get some rest, man. You deserve it."

Caleb feels the heavy weight of his allotment of Trent Ikithon's platinum and gold in his coat pocket and knows that he does not. "Ja," he says. "I will. There's just a little more to do."

"And then what?" The question snaps Caleb's attention back to the present. Torvi is peering at him, her eyes seeming to search in his for an answer. "A little more, and then what? After you find this evidence you need, will it be a little more still, or will you rest?"

If he found evidence against Da'leth and the others, there would be more trials. The web would unravel further still, and he would have new threads to follow. Not to mention, the problem of the ex-Volstrucker scattered to the winds. "Well, you know what they say," he says with a sardonic grin. "There is no rest for the wicked." Torvi does not return his grin.

"You are not wicked." She says this with such certainty that it sparks a small flame of anger in his chest.

"How do you know?" He asks, more than a little petulantly.

"I know." And there is something in the compassionate depths of her sunlit eyes that makes Caleb think, inexplicably, that she does know. She knows what transpired before Vergessen and since. The flame in his chest is quenched thoroughly. He tears his gaze from hers at last, eins, swei, drei... "Alas," she continues, once his breathing has evened out again. "My memories from Vergessen are... muddled." She concludes quietly. "But if I think of anything helpful, I can contact you." He nods, his eyes on the floorboards, as disappointment washes over him.

"I suppose I'll be on my way then." He says, quietly, and rises from his seat. Maeve rises with him.

"I'd like a favor from you before you go," says Torvi, as he turns from the table. He looks up, in surprise.

"Name it."

"I'd like you to hold onto this for me," she says, holding the talisman out with a smile. "I'm always losing mine."

"It's true," mutters Maeve. "I'm always finding them in strange places."

"This one means a lot to me," Torvi says. "I don't want to lose it." She holds the charm out toward him insistently. "Keep it safe for me."

Maeve looks at him sidelong and sighs. "If you don't, she'll just find some way of sneaking it into your pocket as you leave."

"It's true," Torvi agrees, and there is mischief twinkling amidst the warm affection in her eyes, a particular mix that reminds him strongly of Jester. He crosses to her to take the trinket back, and as he does so, her fingers catch his. He feels a familiar warmth settle over him. "May you walk in Corellon's beauty, Bruder." When Maeve had said the words earlier, they had sounded trite to Caleb's ears, but Torvi's benediction was infused with such sincerity.

Caleb bends forward slightly, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Danke, Schwester." She smiles at him warmly, as he releases her grasp and pockets the trinket.

Maeve opens the door for him as he hastily dons his scarf and coat and steps out into the frigid air. To Caleb's surprise, she follows him out onto the step, closing the door behind her. The clearing is now covered in a thin layer of snow, and their breaths create little puffs of fog in the dim glow of the arcane lights. Maeve leans out past the eave of the house for a moment to look up at the sky, but the stars are veiled with clouds. She frowns and straightens, crossing her arms. "Can I give you a little advice?" She asks, her voice pitched low, eyes following the meandering descent of a snowflake.

Caleb watches the snowflake, also, watches it spiral and drift, until it is lost in a sea of shadow. He is not sure he wants advice. He wants evidence, a direction to go in. He has lost his only lead, and now, he is back at square one.

"When I'm stuck on a spell," Maeve continues. "I find the best thing to do is take a break. Then, when I'm doing laundry or gardening or whatever, the solution will come to me." She reaches out a hand past the eave to catch some of the falling snow. "Even the Wildmother can't bloom all the time." A strong gust of wind swirls around them then, trying its best to push Caleb northward. Caleb adjusts his scarf and coat to stop its icy fingers from trailing down his neck, and Maeve shrugs. "Take it or leave it."

"Thank you," Caleb says with a nod. Maeve nods back and turns to re-enter the house, closing the door behind her with a soft thud.

Caleb steps off of the porch, re-casting detect magic with a twist of his hand. He wants to be well clear of the Abjuration magic before he attempts to teleport. The snow crunches under his boots as he makes his way down the row of lights, and the wind whistles in the tree branches and tries, once again, to tug him northward, pulling at his hair this time, loosening it from its tie.

The sharp, clean smell of the fresh snow reminds Caleb of Eiselcross... of Essek. The thought of reuniting with Essek had been a light at the end of the tunnel, during Ikithon's trial. He had even spent time crafting his own Sending spell, so he could contact Essek once the trial was over. When the day came, it had felt too selfish to use it. There was still so much to do.

And Essek isn't the only thing awaiting him in Eiselcross. In the underworld of Aeor lies a crucible, a final test of his tentative, hard-won, untrustworthy goodness.

Caleb walks much further than he needs to. The snowflakes try to kiss his worries away. When this doesn't work, they stop falling, leaving only the wind carding its fingers through his hair with alternating sweetness and frustration. It whistles some more to catch his attention, but he is too lost in his spiraling thoughts to hear it.

He does hear another noise, though, or thinks he does. He cannot find the little owl when he looks up to the tree branches, but he does see a star. A single star, bright enough to shine through a thinning in the veil, twinkling, safe and familiar...

Caleb swears under his breath and yanks a copper wire out of his pocket, before he can think better of it. He shapes it much like he has seen Jester do numerous times and takes a deep breath. He visualizes Essek, his lilac eyes, his high cheekbones, the iridescent freckles dusted across his twilight skin, the elegant curve of his jaw, the small dimples that appear on his cheeks when he smiles, really smiles, and speaks the magic word. "Hallo, Freund, I--" It occurs to him suddenly that, although it is a very reasonable 6:13 in the evening in this part of the Pearlbow Wilderness, it is much deeper into the night at Vurmas Outpost. "I apologize I didn't think of the time. I hope I'm not disturbing you." Nine words left. "Thinking I'll travel to you soon... to exchange theories?" The words leave his lips with the ghost of a smile, and he thinks he hears a smile in Essek's voice as well, when he responds:

"Caleb Widogast, it is good to hear your voice no matter the time of night. I can think of nothing else I would rather do."

.

.

.

Notes: I rather extended the limits of Read Object and Read Mind from the Knowledge Domain descriptions, because.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Long Lost Love // Part Two (D.M.)

Summary: For seven years, you watched the highs and falls of Draco Malfoy’s life. Fifteen years after twenty four letters were left unanswered, he stands on your doorstep declaring his love. What do you do?

A/N: Part two to my mini series for @stupxfy‘s two weeks of angst! The reaction to the first part really did. blow me away. I hope you like this part just as much! (There are some parts that are going to be similar, if not the exact same as the first part, that is so the story flows. This is from a different perspective after all.)

Warnings: pining, mutual pining, teenage love, teenage angst, kissing, making out, some swearing, brief mentions of the battle of hogwarts, mentions of food and drink, anxiety, nightmares.

Word count: 3k

Part One

Twenty two years ago:

By the end of your first week at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, there wasn’t a student or teacher who did not know the name Draco Malfoy.

At eleven years old, he held the arrogance of a man much older and much more experienced with the wiles of the world. At such a young age, he held the air of someone holding court. His small group of friends banding around him, watching him with expressions undefined.

At eleven years old, Draco Malfoy already started to hold the world in his hands.

At eleven years old, you knew to stay away – to protect yourself from the hurt that seemed to follow the young blonde boy wherever he went.

Nineteen years ago:

At fourteen years old, the whole school is still very much aware of Draco Malfoy’s presence. His family’s reputation preceding him; the pressure of the Malfoy name sitting heavily upon the teenager’s shoulders.

The friendship began on a Saturday.

A memorable enough day for you to remember exactly what day of the week it was. The day is seared into your mind for the fact that it had been a Hogsmeade weekend, and Draco hadn’t gone. He hadn’t missed a Hogsmeade visit since being granted permission, but for some reason he had chosen to miss this particular weekend.

And he had joined you in the library.

At fourteen years old, you were very much aware of Draco Malfoy and his title of the Slytherin Prince. At fourteen years old, you knew very well to stay away.

For a while he didn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say; that’s what he’ll admit to you in a couple of years, when you lie on his chest, reminiscing.

His first words to you are your name. They’re whispered, quiet in the hush of the library, “(Y/N)?”

You startle, losing your place in your book, “Draco?”

He points down to your book, a shy smile on your face, “What are you reading?”

You feel your cheeks begin to heat; the familiar flush that accompanies your explanation of your love for fantasy novels that include a love triangle between two boys that are as equally as swoon-worthy as the other. You clear your throat, “A fantasy novel that I’ve been meaning to read for a while.”

Draco sits himself down across from you, resting his elbows on the table, looking somewhat intrigued. He doesn’t an offer an explanation for why he sits down, and you don’t ask for one. You’re happy enough to talk to the teenager that had manage to strike fear in the hearts of many of the students in the school; to decide for yourself whether Draco’s bite is worse than his bark.

“Are you enjoying it so far?” He asks, eyes focused on you rather than the book in your hands.

You glance down to the pages, your bookmark tucked away neatly. Nodding your head, you reply, “I am. I’ve read other books by this author and I’ve yet to find a book I dislike by them.”

Draco nods, not wanting to talk any further. Puzzled, you shrug your shoulders, disregarding the conversation with the Slytherin Prince as a moment of madness on his behalf, returning to the fantasy world of angels, demons, and gargoyle protectors.

It’s an odd interaction by any standard. He never offers his reasoning as to why he spoke to you, why he sat down and then stayed with you. Instead, Draco remains across the table from you, eyes roaming around the library before he eventually settles on watching you read, tracking the movement of each page.

As the day draws to an end, Draco stands and waits for you to collect your things. Silently, a friendship is forged between you both, and you cannot help but wonder how long this will last.

Seventeen years ago:

The greenhouses were ever so dark on an evening. The long tunnels are bathed in muted light due to the vines stretching their way across the roof, reminding you of hands reaching for their lovers in the middle of the night.

How many nights had you wandered the rows with Draco? Your hand reaching for his in the same way as the vines. His hand clasping yours like a Venus fly trap grips its prey.

Nights in the greenhouses were your favourite. Draco’s guard was dropped, revealing the shy mannered teenager you had fallen in love with. His arrogance: his anger – a façade to keep curious eyes at bay. There were very few he let in; you being the one he was most truthful to.

It was in the greenhouse and the hospital wing that you found Draco to be more his true self. It in those two locations that he forged more and more of who he wanted to be after Hogwarts.

He was playful; he was happy, and he was in love with you.

You smile to yourself as you step further into the greenhouse; remembering the night he had confessed his feelings to you, under this very roof. Draco hadn’t been prepared for your reaction, for to you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him. He hadn’t been prepared the first time, but he was definitely ready for the second, and the third, and the fourth.

“What are you thinking of?” His voice sounds close to your ear, making you jump.

Gasping, you whirl around, slapping Draco on the chest lightly. He laughs, catching your hand and bringing it to his lips. You glare at him playfully before answering, “For your information, I was thinking of the night you told me you loved me.”

Draco sighs happily, hooking an arm around your waist, pulling you to him. His free hand reaches up to stroke your cheek; his eyes shine with what can only be defined as joy and adoration. “That night features in my top ten nights of all time.”

“At what number?” You ask, leaning your cheek into his touch.

Draco tilts his head to one side, pretending to think it over. He waits a moment before answering, “Possibly number one.”

“Possibly?”

He laughs, dropping his hand from your face to settle on your waist. He ducks his head, his lips so close to yours they brush as he whispers, “Would it help to know that you feature in every one of my top ten nights?”

You tilt your face back, desperate for an ounce of pressure between your lips, “It helps some, but I think I have an idea of how you can really persuade me.”

“Oh?”

You hum in answer, finally connecting your lips in the kiss you had been longing for since you had met Draco in the Slytherin common room. It was hard, you realise, to keep your hands off him when he was in this sort of mood. Playful Draco was as intoxicating, if not more so, as he was when he was quiet and solemn. It felt silly, to be sixteen years old, and already declaring yourself in love, but here you were.

Breaking the kiss, you step back from the teenager that had somehow stolen your heart. Draco follows you instinctively, hands reaching for you. It sends a rush of warmth through your body,  but you force yourself to focus on the plan for the night. Things could easily slip downhill if you were to let yourself fall into the spell that Draco had managed to intricately weave around your heart and mind, connecting them both to him as his were connected to you.

“I say we get started for the night. We don’t want to let down Madame Pomfrey, do we?”

Draco huffs out a laugh, eyes bright as he watches you, “I suppose not. Let’s get started.”

“Name two purposes of Valerian Root,” You state, standing proudly by the flower known for its healing properties.

“To help someone sleep as well as to ease anxiety,” Draco answers, counting off the purposes on his fingers.

“Very good,” You laugh. You move quietly between the long rows of plants, still in awe that such plants could exist outside of their natural habitats. The wonder of magic, you think to yourself. You turn to Draco suddenly; happy to find his eyes already on you, “What is one danger of Black Henbane?”

Draco pauses his steps, eyes searching for the very flower you had spied only a moment ago. His mouth stretches into a small smile when he spies it hidden away at the back of the greenhouse – away from prying eyes and wandering hands. He walks over to you, remaining so close to you, you can feel the heat from his body as he answers, “As a member of the nightshade family, the plant can be toxic if used in large quantities.”

“Madame Pomfrey was right,” You splutter, happier and happier with his answers, “You’re going to make an incredible Healer, Draco Malfoy.”

You bite your lip, watching the heat creep up Draco’s neck to his cheeks. He ducks his head for a moment, unusually shy around you. “I don’t think I’ll get there if I don’t have you,” He admits, raising his head, meeting your gaze.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face. His admission practically heals something within you; an almost confirmation that Draco wants whatever the both of you have to last. “It’s a good job I’m in this for the long haul then isn’t it?”

“Are you really?” Draco asks; a funny tone to his voice, almost strained as if he can see something in the future.

You nod, determined. Reaching for his hand, you tangle your fingers together, wanting nothing more than to be close to him in this moment. “I’m here for however long you want me, Draco. If that means forever, then that means forever.”

Fifteen years ago:

The words are whispered so quietly you wonder whether you’ve heard him correctly, but then his hand drops yours and you watch him walk across the courtyard to be folded into the arms of the darkest wizard in a century.

“I’m sorry, forgive me.”

They reverberate in your head; clanging in your mind until they are all that you can hear. They repeat to the sound of your heart. Beating against your chest with such force you wonder whether the rest of the courtyard can hear your heart.

A broken sound leaves you; a sob mixed with a whimper drops from your lips as you attempt to follow the teenager you had pledged your forever to. Your eyes remain on Draco, watching as his mother reaches for him. You’re sure you scream his name over and over again, pushing through the crowd of remaining Hogwarts students, desperately, desperately trying to get to him.

A pair of hands grab at your waist, keeping you planted to the ground, stopping you from getting to him. “Don’t do it,” The hands all but shout, “Don’t follow him. He’s chosen his side.”

He had. He had chosen his side, and it hadn’t been with you. It’s then that you realise that whilst you had promised your forever, he had never promised you his.

--------

The letters are written out of hope. They’re written out of foolish hope that he would read them and come back to you. You write down your feelings for the blonde, displaying your love, expecting it to be thrown back in your face.

By writing down your feelings, you’re not only ridding yourself of the burden of the memories, but you’re laying down hope for a future you had promised years ago in the dark of a greenhouse.

Twenty four letters are sent.

There are no replies.

After the twenty fourth letter is sent, you wash your hands of the Slytherin Prince and the hurried kisses behind tapestries. You rid yourself of the memories of his smile and the feel of his hand in yours, of how his fingers would tangle with yours as he would press you against the wall, his lips seeking yours for a kiss that would be burnt into your memory. Deep down, though, you knew that it would be a while before you would free of the stain of his lips and hands.

He had chosen his side. The motive you would never know, but he had chosen nonetheless and now it was time for you to live your life.

Now:

The day began ordinarily. You woke with your husband; the sound of his alarm rousing the both of you. A day begun too early in your opinion. One you shared with your husband, happy at the sound of his laughter followed by the first of many kisses of the day.

The second kiss of the day landed on your mouth as you watched him head off to work. It had been a chance meeting the day you met your husband. Aiden had fallen to the floor in front of you; dramatically tripping over his own feet and untied shoelaces. After your laughter had dissipated, you had helped him up, asking for his name so you could see if he was hurt. He had stuttered his name out; already half in love with you, he later joked.

Waving Aiden off, you watch his car pull out of the driveway. Aiden hadn’t a lick of magic in him; completely and utterly ordinary save for the love he holds for you. His lack of magic had been part of the appeal; desperate to have a sense of ordinary after experiencing the extraordinary in your education.

He knew everything. Your magic wasn’t something you could keep secret, and he had accepted it as part of you, joking how much easier it would be to put the kettle on from another room.

It’s barely an hour later when a knock on the door sounds. Frowning, you automatically know it isn’t Aiden. He wouldn’t knock; he would walk straight in with a smile on his face and a greeting at the ready.

Pulling open the door, you feel your heart stop in your chest when you catch sight of the man standing on your doorstep.

Draco Malfoy.

The urge to run was overwhelming; adrenaline coiling your muscles tight, ready to spring to action in a moment’s notice. The last time you had seen the man standing before you, you were stood on the other side of the courtyard. The lines in your relationship very clearly drawn despite the letters written with love and hidden away with care, ready to be sent.

It had been fifteen years. Fifteen long years of wondering what you did wrong; of building yourself up from what he had broken into pieces; of finding a love you finally knew you deserved in the form of Aiden.

It had been fifteen years, and Draco Malfoy looked like hell.

Words fall from his mouth in a torrent; the explanation rushed out so fast it is hard to keep. You move to interrupt, to state the three words that would end it all now.

He doesn’t let you. Instead, he confesses his love for you. The love that had never died for him but had long been buried for you. He watches you in silence, watching the emotions flit over your face with a puzzled expression on his own. Draco didn’t seem to understand what was causing your hesitance, your silence on the matter.

“Draco…” You state, holding up your left hand for him to see the silver bands wrapping around the fourth finger – a sign of your love for Aiden, “I’m married.”

The effect is immediate. You watch as the fight leaves his body; as the hopelessness sets in, wringing his body for what it’s worth. The light dims in his eyes and you can the irreparable damage crack through the bright grey of eyes you once adored.

“Do you love him?” Draco asks; hating how the words taste on his tongue – bitter and filled with self-hatred. He cannot help himself; he has to know; this has to be the last nail in his self-built coffin.

You nod, feeling for the rings that have sat on your left hand for years now. “I do. I love him very much.”

“Does he treat you well?”

“Better than I deserve at times,” You admit, remembering the early days in your relationship with your husband. How he had been so patient when you woke up crying over the blonde haired man that now stood on your doorstep. How he had taken you in his arms and had not pushed; hadn’t questioned you like he wanted to – he let you cry it out and waited for you to come to him.

Years later and you still hadn’t thanked him enough for that.

Draco nods: blonde hair falling into his eyes which he pushes back with a weary movement of his hand. He steps back, a hand coming up to his chest. Whether it is an action of apology or a way to protect the heart that was now shattering in his chest, you did not know.

“I’m sorry,” He gasps, “I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have done this, but I had to know.”

You step forward, one hand outstretched to the boy you had loved so fiercely at sixteen, “Draco…”

He shakes his head, face pained, “Please don’t. Don’t say my name.”

Tears fill your eyes; overwhelmed with the day already. “I’m sorry,” You whisper, “I hope you find someone. They’ll be as lucky as I was all those years ago.”

It’s the last straw. Draco’s heart shatters into unrecognisable dust in the cavity of his chest. His hands fall limply at his sides as his eyes run over your face one more time; committing to memory of what aging next to you would have looked like, what his future could have looked like if he had chosen you that day in the courtyard.

One more look is all he allows himself before he apparates away, running back to the safety of his home where he can mourn for the life he could have had in peace. If only he had spoken up, spoken out.

If only.

******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @lunalovegxxd @big-galaxy-chaos @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @stupxfy @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach​ @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz​ @kashishwrites​ @slytherinsunrise​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @remmyswritings​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @ria-rests-here​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @inglourious-imagines​ @ithilwen-lionheart​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @phuvioqhile​ @moatsnow​ @missmulti​ @storyisnotover​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell​ @obxmxybxnk​ @obx-beach​ @sycathorn-slush​ @dracomalfoyswifey​ @kashishwrites​ @justmesadgirl​ @detroitobsessed​ @aspiringsloth20​ @just-a-belgian-girl​ @lahoete​ @minty-malfoy​ @fallinallinmendes​ @ravenclawbitch426​ @ochrythum​ @beiahadid​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @dracosathenaeum​

[nellygwyn]

BOOK RECS

Okay, so lots of people wanted this and so, I am compiling a list of my favourite books (both fiction and non-fiction), books that I recommend you read as soon as humanly possible. In the meantime, I’ll be pinning this post to the top of my blog (once I work out how to do that lmao) so it will be accessible for old and new followers. I’m going to order this list thematically, I think, just to keep everything tidy and orderly. Of course, a lot of this list will consist of historical fiction and historical non-fiction because that’s what I read primarily and thus, that’s where my bias is, but I promise to try and spice it up just a little bit. 

Favourite fiction books of all time:

The Mermaid and Mrs Hancock // Imogen Hermes Gowar

Sense and Sensibility // Jane Austen

Slammerkin // Emma Donoghue 

Remarkable Creatures // Tracy Chevalier

Life Mask // Emma Donoghue

His Dark Materials // Philip Pullman (this includes the follow-up series The Book of Dust)

Emma // Jane Austen

The Miniaturist // Jessie Burton

Girl, Woman, Other // Bernadine Evaristo 

Jane Eyre // Charlotte Brontë

Persuasion // Jane Austen

Girl with a Pearl Earring // Tracy Chevalier

The Silent Companions // Laura Purcell

Tess of the d’Urbervilles // Thomas Hardy

Northanger Abbey // Jane Austen

The Chronicles of Narnia // C.S. Lewis

Pride and Prejudice // Jane Austen

Goodnight, Mr Tom // Michelle Magorian

The French Lieutenant’s Woman // John Fowles 

The Butcher’s Hook // Janet Ellis 

Mansfield Park // Jane Austen

The All Souls Trilogy // Deborah Harkness

The Railway Children // Edith Nesbit

Favourite non-fiction books of all time

Catherine the Great: Portrait of a Woman // Robert Massie

Love and Louis XIV: The Women in the Life of the Sun King // Antonia Fraser

Madame de Pompadour // Nancy Mitford

The First Iron Lady: A Life of Caroline of Ansbach // Matthew Dennison 

Black and British: A Forgotten History // David Olusoga

Courtiers: The Secret History of the Georgian Court // Lucy Worsley 

Young and Damned and Fair: The Life of Katherine Howard, the Fifth Wife of Henry VIII // Gareth Russell

King Charles II // Antonia Fraser

Casanova’s Women // Judith Summers

Marie Antoinette: The Journey // Antonia Fraser

Mrs. Jordan’s Profession: The Story of a Great Actress and a Future King // Claire Tomalin

Jane Austen at Home // Lucy Worsley

Mudlarking: Lost and Found on the River Thames // Lara Maiklem

The Last Royal Rebel: The Life and Death of James, Duke of Monmouth // Anna Keay

The Marlboroughs: John and Sarah Churchill // Christopher Hibbert

Nell Gwynn: A Biography // Charles Beauclerk

Jurassic Mary: Mary Anning and the Primeval Monsters // Patricia Pierce

Georgian London: Into the Streets // Lucy Inglis

The Prince Who Would Be King: The Life and Death of Henry Stuart // Sarah Fraser

Wedlock: How Georgian Britain’s Worst Husband Met His Match // Wendy Moore

Dead Famous: An Unexpected History of Celebrity from the Stone Age to the Silver Screen // Greg Jenner

Victorians Undone: Tales of the Flesh in the Age of Decorum // Kathryn Hughes

Crown of Blood: The Deadly Inheritance of Lady Jane Grey // Nicola Tallis

Favourite books about the history of sex and/or sex work

The Origins of Sex: A History of First Sexual Revolution // Faramerz Dabhoiwala 

Erotic Exchanges: The World of Elite Prostitution in Eighteenth-Century Paris // Nina Kushner

Peg Plunkett: Memoirs of a Whore // Julie Peakman

Courtesans // Katie Hickman

The Other Victorians: A Study of Sexuality and Pornography in mid-Nineteenth Century England

Madams, Bawds, and Brothel Keepers // Fergus Linnane

The Secret History of Georgian London: How the Wages of Sin Shaped the Capital // Dan Cruickshank 

A Curious History of Sex // Kate Lister

Sex and Punishment: 4000 Years of Judging Desire // Eric Berkowitz

Queen of the Courtesans: Fanny Murray // Barbara White

Rent Boys: A History from Ancient Times to Present // Michael Hone

Celeste // Roland Perry

Sex and the Gender Revolution // Randolph Trumbach

The Pleasure’s All Mine: A History of Perverse Sex // Julie Peakman

LGBT+ fiction I love*

The Confessions of the Fox // Jordy Rosenberg 

As Meat Loves Salt // Maria Mccann

Bone China // Laura Purcell

Brideshead Revisited // Evelyn Waugh

The Confessions of Frannie Langton // Sara Collins

The Intoxicating Mr Lavelle // Neil Blackmore

Orlando // Virginia Woolf

Tipping the Velvet // Sarah Waters

She Rises // Kate Worsley

The Mercies // Kiran Millwood Hargrave

Oranges are Not the Only Fruit // Jeanette Winterson

Maurice // E.M Forster

Frankisstein: A Love Story // Jeanette Winterson

If I Was Your Girl // Meredith Russo 

The Well of Loneliness // Radclyffe Hall 

* fyi, Life Mask and Girl, Woman, Other are also LGBT+ fiction

Classics I haven’t already mentioned (including children’s classics)

Far From the Madding Crowd // Thomas Hardy 

I Capture the Castle // Dodie Smith 

Vanity Fair // William Makepeace Thackeray 

Wuthering Heights // Emily Brontë

The Blazing World // Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle

Murder on the Orient Express // Agatha Christie 

Great Expectations // Charles Dickens

North and South // Elizabeth Gaskell

Evelina // Frances Burney

Death on the Nile // Agatha Christie

The Monk // Matthew Lewis

Frankenstein // Mary Shelley

Vilette // Charlotte Brontë

The Mayor of Casterbridge // Thomas Hardy

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall // Anne Brontë

Vile Bodies // Evelyn Waugh

Beloved // Toni Morrison 

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd // Agatha Christie

The History of Tom Jones, A Foundling // Henry Fielding

A Room With a View // E.M. Forster

Silas Marner // George Eliot 

Jude the Obscure // Thomas Hardy

My Man Jeeves // P.G. Wodehouse

Lady Audley’s Secret // Mary Elizabeth Braddon

Middlemarch // George Eliot

Little Women // Louisa May Alcott

Children of the New Forest // Frederick Marryat

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings // Maya Angelou 

Rebecca // Daphne du Maurier

Alice in Wonderland // Lewis Carroll

The Wind in the Willows // Kenneth Grahame

Anna Karenina // Leo Tolstoy

Howard’s End // E.M. Forster

The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4 // Sue Townsend

Even more fiction recommendations

The Darling Strumpet // Gillian Bagwell

The Wolf Hall trilogy // Hilary Mantel

The Illumination of Ursula Flight // Anne-Marie Crowhurst

Queenie // Candace Carty-Williams

Forever Amber // Kathleen Winsor

The Corset // Laura Purcell

Love in Colour // Bolu Babalola

Artemisia // Alexandra Lapierre

Blackberry and Wild Rose // Sonia Velton

The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories // Angela Carter

The Languedoc trilogy // Kate Mosse

Longbourn // Jo Baker

A Skinful of Shadows // Frances Hardinge

The Black Moth // Georgette Heyer

The Far Pavilions // M.M Kaye

The Essex Serpent // Sarah Perry

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo // Taylor Jenkins Reid

Cavalier Queen // Fiona Mountain 

The Winter Palace // Eva Stachniak

Friday’s Child // Georgette Heyer

Falling Angels // Tracy Chevalier

Little // Edward Carey

Chocolat // Joanne Harris 

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street // Natasha Pulley 

My Sister, the Serial Killer // Oyinkan Braithwaite

The Convenient Marriage // Georgette Heyer

Katie Mulholland // Catherine Cookson

Restoration // Rose Tremain

Meat Market // Juno Dawson

Lady on the Coin // Margaret Campbell Bowes

In the Company of the Courtesan // Sarah Dunant

The Crimson Petal and the White // Michel Faber

A Place of Greater Safety // Hilary Mantel 

The Little Shop of Found Things // Paula Brackston

The Improbability of Love // Hannah Rothschild

The Murder Most Unladylike series // Robin Stevens

Dark Angels // Karleen Koen

The Words in My Hand // Guinevere Glasfurd

Time’s Convert // Deborah Harkness

The Collector // John Fowles

Vivaldi’s Virgins // Barbara Quick

The Foundling // Stacey Halls

The Phantom Tree // Nicola Cornick

The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle // Stuart Turton

Golden Hill // Francis Spufford

Assorted non-fiction not yet mentioned

The Dinosaur Hunters: A True Story of Scientific Rivalry and the Discovery of the Prehistoric World // Deborah Cadbury

The Beauty and the Terror: An Alternative History to the Italian Renaissance // Catherine Fletcher

All the King's Women: Love, Sex, and Politics in the life of Charles II // Derek Jackson

Mozart’s Women // Jane Glover

Scandalous Liaisons: Charles II and His Court // R.E. Pritchard

Matilda: Queen, Empress, Warrior // Catherine Hanley 

Black Tudors // Miranda Kaufman 

To Catch a King: Charles II's Great Escape // Charles Spencer

1666: Plague, War and Hellfire // Rebecca Rideal

Henrietta Maria: Charles I's Indomitable Queen // Alison Plowden

Catherine of Braganza: Charles II's Restoration Queen // Sarah-Beth Watkins

Four Sisters: The Lost Lives of the Romanov Grand Duchesses // Helen Rappaport

Aristocrats: Caroline, Emily, Louisa and Sarah Lennox, 1740-1832 // Stella Tillyard 

The Fortunes of Francis Barber: The True Story of the Jamaican Slave who Became Samuel Johnson’s Heir // Michael Bundock

Black London: Life Before Emancipation // Gretchen Gerzina

In These Times: Living in Britain Through Napoleon’s Wars, 1793-1815

The King’s Mistress: Scandal, Intrigue and the True Story of the Woman who Stole the Heart of George I // Claudia Gold

Perdita: The Life of Mary Robinson // Paula Byrne

The Gentleman’s Daughter: Women’s Lives in Georgian England // Amanda Vickery

Terms and Conditions: Life in Girls’ Boarding School, 1939-1979 // Ysenda Maxtone Graham 

Fanny Burney: A Biography // Claire Harman

Aphra Behn: A Secret Life // Janet Todd

The Imperial Harem: Women and the Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire // Leslie Peirce

The Fall of the House of Byron // Emily Brand

The Favourite: Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough // Ophelia Field

Night-Walking: A Nocturnal History of London // Matthew Beaumont, Will Self

Jane Austen: A Life // Claire Tomalin

Beloved Emma: The Life of Emma, Lady Hamilton // Flora Fraser

Sentimental Murder: Love and Madness in the 18th Century // John Brewer

Henrietta Howard: King’s Mistress, Queen’s Servant // Tracy Borman

City of Beasts: How Animals Shaped Georgian London // Tom Almeroth-Williams

Queen Anne: The Politics of Passion // Anne Somerset 

Charlotte Brontë: A Life // Claire Harman 

Goddess: The Secret Lives of Marilyn Monroe // Anthony Summers

Queer City: Gay London from the Romans to the Present Day // Peter Ackroyd 

Elizabeth I and Her Circle // Susan Doran

African Europeans: An Untold History // Olivette Otele 

Young Romantics: The Shelleys, Byron, and Other Tangled Lives // Daisy Hay

How to Create the Perfect Wife // Wendy Moore

The Sphinx: The Life of Gladys Deacon, Duchess of Marlborough // Hugo Vickers

The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn // Eric Ives

Dancing in the Streets: A History of Collective Joy // Barbara Ehrenreich

A is for Arsenic: The Poisons of Agatha Christie // Kathryn Harkup 

Mistresses: Sex and Scandal at the Court of Charles II // Linda Porter

Female Husbands: A Trans History // Jen Manion

Ladies in Waiting: From the Tudors to the Present Day // Anne Somerset

Ghostland: In Search of a Haunted Country // Edward Parnell 

A Cheesemonger’s History of the British Isles // Ned Palmer

The Butchering Art: Joseph Lister’s Quest to Transform the Grisly World of Victorian Medicine // Lindsey Fitzharris

Medieval Woman: Village Life in the Middle Ages // Ann Baer

The Husband Hunters: Social Climbing in London and New York // Anne de Courcy

The Voices of Nîmes: Women, Sex, and Marriage in Reformation Languedoc // Suzannah Lipscomb

The Daughters of the Winter Queen // Nancy Goldstone

Mad and Bad: Real Heroines of the Regency // Bea Koch

Bess of Hardwick // Mary S. Lovell

The Royal Art of Poison // Eleanor Herman 

The Strangest Family: The Private Lives of George III, Queen Charlotte, and the Hanoverians // Janice Hadlow

Palaces of Pleasure: From Music Halls to the Seaside to Football; How the Victorians Invented Mass Entertainment // Lee Jackson

Favourite books about current social/political issues (?? for lack of a better term)

Feminism, Interrupted: Disrupting Power // Lola Olufemi

Revolting Prostitutes: The Fight for Sex Worker Rights // Molly Smith, Juno Mac

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race // Reni Eddo-Lodge

Trans Britain: Our Journey from the Shadows // Christine Burns

Me, Not You: The Trouble with Mainstream Feminism // Alison Phipps

Trans Like Me: A Journey For All Of Us // C.N Lester

Brit(Ish): On Race, Identity, and Belonging // Afua Hirsch 

The Brutish Museums: The Benin Bronzes, Colonial Violence, and Cultural Restitution // Dan Hicks

Things No One Will Tell Fat Girls: A Handbook for Unapologetic Living // Jes M. Baker

Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women White Feminists Forgot // Mikki Kendall

Denial: Holocaust History on Trial // Deborah Lipstadt

Yes Means Yes: Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World Without Rape // Jessica Valenti, Jaclyn Friedman

Don’t Touch My Hair // Emma Dabiri

Sister Outsider // Audre Lorde 

Unicorn: The Memoir of a Muslim Drag Queen // Amrou Al-Kadhi

Trans Power // Juno Roche

Breathe: A Letter to My Sons // Imani Perry

The Windrush Betrayal: Exposing the Hostile Environment // Amelia Gentleman

Happy Fat: Taking Up Space in a World That Wants to Shrink You // Sofie Hagen

Diaries, memoirs & letters

The Diary of a Young Girl // Anne Frank

Renia’s Diary: A Young Girl’s Life in the Shadow of the Holocaust // Renia Spiegel 

Writing Home // Alan Bennett

The Diary of Samuel Pepys // Samuel Pepys

Histoire de Ma Vie // Giacomo Casanova

Toast: The Story of a Boy’s Hunger // Nigel Slater

London Journal, 1762-1763 // James Boswell

The Diary of a Bookseller // Shaun Blythell 

Jane Austen’s Letters // edited by Deidre la Faye

H is for Hawk // Helen Mcdonald 

The Salt Path // Raynor Winn

The Glitter and the Gold // Consuelo Vanderbilt, Duchess of Marlborough

Journals and Letters // Fanny Burney

Educated // Tara Westover

Bookworm: A Memoir of Childhood Reading // Lucy Mangan

Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? // Jeanette Winterson

A Dutiful Boy // Mohsin Zaidi

Secrets and Lies: The Trials of Christine Keeler // Christine Keeler

800 Years of Women’s Letters // edited by Olga Kenyon

Istanbul // Orhan Pamuk

Henry and June // Anaïs Nin

Historical romance (this is a short list because I’m still fairly new to this genre)

The Bridgerton series // Julia Quinn

One Good Earl Deserves a Lover // Sarah Mclean

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake // Sarah Mclean

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics // Olivia Waite

That Could Be Enough // Alyssa Cole

Unveiled // Courtney Milan

The Craft of Love // EE Ottoman

The Maiden Lane series // Elizabeth Hoyt

An Extraordinary Union // Alyssa Cole

Slightly Dangerous // Mary Balogh

Dangerous Alliance: An Austentacious Romance // Jennieke Cohen

A Fashionable Indulgence // KJ Charles

[goodomensficrecommendations]

What are your all time favorite fics?

I’ve been thinking about this for far too long but I think (for now) I have an answer (maybe).

Which stories do you come back to over and over again? Think of when reading others? Made you immediately look up the author and read all their other work? 

In no particular order, here are mine! Please share yours!

1. A Memory of Eden

by ImprobableDreams900 ( @improbabledreams900 )

(link to cover and my recommendation here)

Rated M (for violence) I sing the praises of this series a lot, I know. It’s one of the first GO fics I read and I’ve been spoiled ever since. Prior to this, I’d really only read one-shots or shorter stories. I didn’t even know that “series” existed on AO3 and was so excited to find there was more when I finished a Memory of Eden! Also, some people use “series” more like chapters or unrelated works - this was truly like picking up an amazing novel in the library and then discovering there are more (!) to read. I joined tumblr because of this series - I was really just following different posts about this series at first. This story is intense! I am not a huge crier, but it had me out and out sobbing BOTH times I’ve read it! It is so so good. This is the only one on my list I’ve only read twice, just because I have to be emotionally prepared for it. ;) But I really love the world building, original characters, and the amazingly real-feeling A and C. There are 3 “main” stories that are each novels in their own right, plus some short accompanying stories. 

The author is a graphic designer/book designer and fully designed and printed them (not for sale) with book covers and everything and I am so jealous (check them out, they’re so pretty!). Partially because I’m in marketing and LOVE print design and would love to design books and partially because I would love to have a copy! ;) 

2. Slow Show

by  mia_ugly ( @mia-ugly )

(link to cover and my recommendation here)

Rated E  This one is on most people’s fic rec lists, but for good reason! This one came out shortly after the show and I hadn’t yet read a lot of Human AUs (ha! that’s almost all I seem to read now lol). I remember thinking the premise wouldn’t be my thing, but I had seen it mentioned a few times and decided to give it a try. I tend not to love the over the top parallels to the book/show, so at the first “you gave it away?” I thought it was going to repeat lines too much and almost stopped reading! Thankfully I kept reading!!! I also didn’t realize it was a WIP when I started, so I followed along with updates as they came out from near the beginning. I prefer to read my stories in one go, but it was really awesome to follow along as this story progressed. I’ve read it all again many times and it’s just written so well! Someone also made a printed version of it, which looks amazing, check it out here! 

3. Good Neighbours, Good Fences (and Other Misunderstandings)

by out_there ( @out-there-tmblr )

(link to cover and my recommendation here)

Rated E Another that I see recommended often, but for good reason! It’s just so lovely. I love the descriptions of both Crowley and Aziraphale (”He's not a twenty-four year old twink anymore; he can't get away with hot pants and a mesh shirt” just is so amazing). Their banter is fantastic and so is the natural way their relationship evolves. This one is fairly short (IMO) and I have no idea how many times I’ve read it, it’s one I saved a long time ago and reread often.

4. Anthophilia

by FortinbrasFTW ( @fortinbrasftw )

(link to cover and my recommendation here)

Rated E More Human AU? Yeah, yeah, I know. This one came out before the show so it’s been around for quite some time. Seems like everyone has read this already, but you definitely should if you haven’t yet. Every now and then I search AO3 fics to look for something new and if I sort by total kudos, bookmarks, or comments this one is always near the top. It is so so good. I have read this at least five or six times so far. Love both A and C in this with an awesome Anathema as well.

5. Shotgun Wedding: sometimes a first date requires paperwork

By charlottemadison ( @charlottemadison42 )

(link to cover and my recommendation here)

Rated E Kind of cheating with this one (but I made the rules! Oh wait, no rules, carry on), but this story has captured me since the beginning! I tried valiantly to wait until it was finished, but I’m really glad I didn’t because I get so excited when it updates and I love charlotte’s posts with fun gifs when there are updates. I held out for awhile, but the post with a snippet of conversation at the bar with Aziraphale, Tracy, Shadwell, and Anathema pulled me in (looks like it’s in chapter 10) and read it before I could stop myself lol. I live in New England and I loved the time put into sounding out their accents. It caught my attention and I’ve been hooked ever since! I’ve reread it from the start so many times already! The insights into relationships (in general and romantic) are so insightful! And the premise is superb. I also love the small easter egg things but that they don’t pull me out of the story but are so amazing when you catch them (I’ll be honest, read chapter 30 too fast and the therapist “Herb” went totally over my head! I love Demonology and I didn’t catch it!). The writing is phenomenal! This one’s an all time favorite, I am both excited and already sad about it finishing up soon. 

So what are your favorites? I’m sure I’ll be posting more at some point! It was really hard to narrow it down to five. Basically if I’ve made a cover out of it, then it’s a favorite of mine. ;) But I'd love to hear yours!

[gotmilk5101520]

Trollhunters Book (2015) the weird book that would be the start of Tales of Arcadia

Trollhunters book. Read it and... what was all that?

Some spoilers below the cut.

So many things were different from the series we know and watch. It has a lot of horror and it was suppose to be a live action series adaptation of the book (Hey, Hollywood, if you want to do a live action remake of Trollhunters then just base it on the book. We already have the cartoon don’t want you ruining it like Rise of the Titans did) There were a lot of differences from the show i know, but it also had somethings that would be told differently from the book.

Instead of his mom, Jim lives with his dad James “Jim” Sturges Sr (And Jim’s last name isn’t Lake but Sturges which is actually important) who is a paranoid and traumatized man after losing his brother Jack Sturges in 1969 under a bridge and seeing some monster. Oh, and everyone lives in San Bernardino not Arcadia Oaks (So i guess it’s Trollhunters: Tales of San Bernardino?) And Barbara was the one that walked out (The book never gave Jim’s mom a name, but going with the series i chose to still call her Barbara) Oh, and Jim’s dad invented the Excalibur Calculator Pocket (Jim wielding Excalibur was foreshadowed as far as the book)

Jim is short. Like really short. Claire is taller than him (Okay am i the only bugged by that? Why didn’t the series let Claire be taller than Jim? Where are the aus where Claire is taller than Jim?) Tobias is called Tubby or Tub not Toby, and he’s Jewish, and he still lives with his grandma (The book doesn’t call her Nana) Claire is Scottish, apparently her birthday is May 2nd which is a day after Jim’s (Which is May 1st, but the series changed his birthday to October 10th) and her baby brother Enrique doesn’t exist in the book.

Steve is still Steve just more brutal and can get away with everything, his last name is Jorgensen-Warner, and is a Changeling (Though the show was going to make Steve a Changeling like in the book. But they changed their minds, as shown in episode 7 To Catch a Changeling, and his troll form was reworked into Draal. Now i have to wonder if Changeling Steve would’ve been better than what happened to him in the movie)

Blinky is an octopus like troll, with eight eyes (Four of them are blind) Aaarrrgghh is a female here with black fur. Gunmar the Black is red even though they call him the Black (I guess Gunmar the Red didn’t sound good) And the history of trolls is very different from the show. Also Killahead Bridge is called Killaheed Bridge.

The school actually has more teachers than the three in the show (Coach Lawrence still exists in the book) There is: Principal Cole, Miss Pinkton the math teacher, Miss Leach the drama teacher (Miss Leach probably later became Miss Janeth in the show) Senor Uhl doesn’t exist in the book. There are other characters like Professor Lempke (Someone i’m gonna talk more about later) Tubby’s dentist is named Dr. Papadapolous and not Dr. Muelas (Or as i like to call him. Guillermo Del Toro the Dentist) Sergeant Ben Gulager (Probably later became Officer Brennan)

There are different types of trolls like Nullhullers, who can vomit out all of their organs save their hearts to become faster. If i had to learn about this, you should suffer too. But i won’t say how Changelings replace their baby counterparts. It’s something you have to read yourself but it’s really really disturbing.

The Amulet of Daylight isn’t called that, and the Amulet is a Medallion that translates troll (So it doesn’t give you a suit of armor, or gives you a sword to fight trolls) The Trollhunters are different too. It’s the Amulet of Daylight that picks a troll to become the Trollhunter, with Jim being the first human Trollhunter. That is not the case here in the book. The Trollhunters were always humans and they fought the trolls that kept eating them. The Sturges are one of the family of Trollhunters, and towards the end of the book it’s revealed Claire is one too. And Merlin and Morgana have nothing to do with the book.

Jack Sturges was an interesting character to me and it makes me mad that he was one of the characters that wasn’t in the show. Hey i’m just saying, they could’ve made him be Barbara’s missing old brother if they didn’t want James in the series.

There were moments from characters that i always found strange and surprised the book didn’t confirm that.

Starting with Steve not Palchuk but instead Jorgensen-Warner. Now the book reveals he’s a Changeling cause Tub touched him with a horseshoe and Claire kills him. Some of Jim’s classmates would be among the kids that begins to disappear. And then later Claire gets taken as well. The book never confirms or denies it, but i believe Steve was the reason Claire and some of his classmates were taken. I say this cause when Claire tells Steve off (Which by the way was an awesome scene and i think she also Rule Number 3 him) and he walks away angry and then later she gets kidnapped. I found that weird and too convenient. And now that i’m thinking about it. Steve was bullying Jim and Tub before Claire tells him off. Thinking about it i think if Claire didn’t interfered then Steve would’ve picked Jim and/or Tub to get eaten by Gunmar. But that’s just my headcanon.

Another character i want to talk about is Professor Lempke, who i feel was split into two characters in the show, Strickler and Nomura. Lempke is an arrogant man who is also working to restore the Killaheed Bridge. Doesn’t that familiar? The book never confirms it, but it’s possible that Lempke was a Changeling too and was restoring Killaheed for Gunmar. Why else would he talk about how great the bridge is and went through all the trouble to get it to San Bernardino? And when Gunmar was freed and fighting, Lempke, as Jim said, was overjoyed at the battle and then after the battle Lempke disappeared. That last one honestly seemed like a sequel hook.

Given how somethings were i feel like, if Tales of Arcadia didn’t happen, then the book would’ve become a series. Trollhunters was from Jim’s point of view, and i feel like if we got the book series instead of the cartoon, then there could’ve been spin off books sequels and prequel. Maybe Trollhunters spin offs one from Tub’s point of view and one from Claire’s point of view, Trollhunters prequel on Jack when he was taken, Trollhunters sequels that may had them dealing with Lempke and possible other enemies and finding other Trollhunters. Who knows.

But all and all. The book was a good read and it really shows what would influence the show. Truth by told reading the book made me lose my appetite for a while.

[first-and-last-neocount]

Anthony is Out, Corey is In

So, I’ve found something far more worthy of my time and thoughts than Piers Anthony’s grossness. 

A coworker of mine - who is now immediately getting upgraded to Friend status, by the way, lol - just loaned me James S. A. Corey’s novel “Leviathan Wakes”, first book of the Expanse series. I’ve had the book in my custody for about five hours, only two of which were available reading time, I’m on Chapter 7 and I’m in love. The formal second post on Bearing an Hourglass is canceled in favour of writing my next proper installment on Leviathan Wakes, so here’s my last thoughts on the Incarnations of Immortality: 

I liked Norton a lot more than Zane, but the whole of Bearing an Hourglass dragged because of those damn alternate-reality segments that had only the most tenuous relevance to the rest of the plot. It was a struggle to finish the book, and I only managed by skipping another two big chunks toward the end and just dipping back in where the thread of the main plot picked up. The third book, With a Tangled Skein, opened with some of the most skin-crawling sexism I’ve ever had the displeasure of reading: Niobe is portrayed as the most stereotyped, shallow cutout of a character I’ve ever seen. The entire book is focused on her marriage and sex life with her husband, instead of developing her actual personality and interests as the first two books did for their protagonists. Barely thirty pages into the book she gets assaulted by four college guys, which somehow puts her in the mood to have sex with her husband. I’m not going into any more detail than that, it was gross and creepy and made me feel like I needed about ten hot showers just reading it, I’m done. I’ve also been told that it somehow manages to get worse, further into the series, and I am profoundly grateful that I decided to bail when I did. 

I’m now scrubbing my brain of everything in those books, except for the general vibe of the premise, which is going through six cycles of Yuck Reduction and getting recycled into the worldbuilding for ‘Cause I Loved You For Too Long. 

NOW, ON TO LEVIATHAN WAKES. 

Proper thoughts coming in another post tomorrow (because I should really be in bed already), but oh my god, I am so incredibly invested already. The characterization is sharp and relatable, the setting is vivid and fills me with nostalgia for the old classic sci-fi from Bradbury and Heinlein, the action is beautifully paced and the intrigue has got me absolutely hooked. I’ve seen a few people talking about this series here on Tumblr, but I had no idea just what I was missing: I am so, so glad that I’ve been introduced to these books, and I’m massively enjoying myself so far. 

Get ready for a lot of sci-fi blogging from me for the next little bit XD

[sta-bright]

My First Tumble

Hi Tumblr,

I was inspired to get a Tumblr account, believe it or not, from Netflix's 2021 four-part docu-series "Crime Scene: The Vanishing at the Cecil Hotel." Although I highly doubt anyone cares enough to read any of my posts or has the attention span to read anything longer than a few sentences written by a 23 year old with her boobs out, *just in case,* SPOILER ALERT.

The (main) topic of the show focuses around Elisa Lam, who vanished in early 2013 when she was staying at the Cecil Hotel and was then found dead in one of the four water tanks on the roof 19 days after being reported missing (I think I have that correct but don't hold me to it, imaginary readers. It was something like that.).

Anyway, "...to make a long story short"... "too late" #cluereference, Elisa had a Tumblr blog. It seemed to be a good setup for how she was writing very personally, which is what I want to do, so here we go. I have a blog page for the business I own, but to be honest, it's geared more toward, well, business, so I don't feel like I can write freely, or only like the "good" or "normal" part of myself, the good stuff geared at an audience without scaring people away or whatever. So for this one, I don't really care as much about proper grammar or spelling, just somewhere to write my real thoughts if and when I can focus enough to sort them out enough to put them down. I have a bunch of journals, but they are all over the place and I can't write fast enough, so I'm going to try this out. I have a lot to say, and I think even just putting it out there even though I know no one cares might help me feel a little bit of relief, even if anyone does read it and might think I'm an idiot or whatever.

I wasn't sure what to name my blog, and I'm not sure if there's a way to change it in the future, but for now I have decided on "Sta-Bright." Most of my family and some of my close friends call me "Sta" and my partner David calls me Sta Bright, which I think is really cute and makes me happy, so here we are. I use the word partner because I think the word boyfriend is a little too young for us and our relationship warrants a higher level than that. ANYWAY, there is the background information for you, my new friend, Tumblr. I already feel better.

So, this show really pissed me off for a few (many) reasons. I've legitimately been pacing around all morning. First, even the title of the show is misleading. The death of Elisa Lam was not a "crime." It was a devastating incident of accidental death highly likely (as confidently confirmed by all professionals involved) related to a psychotic episode of her mental illness, Bipolar I, which I also happen to have. Netflix using the title "Crime Scene" to lure watchers in is disgusting within itself. Good for you, Netflix. Holla for the dollas! Make that money, baby.

Then, beyond the fact Netflix milked four episodes out of a glamorized case that was ruled an accidental death for this reason not even long after finding Elisa, it is the whole ordeal of the reality and dramatizing of this saga that is so sad.

Upon the release of the famous elevator footage the day she went missing, it went viral almost instantaneously.

*Hold please* I actually just read an article by BBC.com where director of the series, Joe Berlinger, says, "For the average viewer it's another compelling story you watch and then move on to the next. But for who this happened to, it's the worst moment in their life. It's a real tragedy for that person and that family." LOLOLOLOL OKAY JOE!!!! Is this why you spent FOUR EPISODES talking about bullshit theories to keep people hooked and open more discussion? You know that this is not out of respect. Shame on YOU!

"If you look at the other tellings of the story, you'd see she's the victim of some horrible, evil presence that took control of her.

"Those kinds of narratives, I think, are incredibly disrespectful and probably why the family just didn't want to deal with another show that was going to exaggerate the circumstances of the tragedy."

So is this why you made a show exaggerating the circumstances of the tragedy? Lol. "We need to talk about the ghost stories" Or do you need to talk about them to open a can of worms to more losers who fixate on the case? OR IS THAT JUST ME? I don't know. Lemme tell ya what. If anything ever happens to me, please make sure this Joe Schmuck doesn't make a pathetic docuseries about it.

Then, aside from the pathetic profit of Netflix, the actual details of what happened and how society and the "web sleuths" investigated, obsessed, and chimed in on this case is a whole other ballpark about society's minimization and lack of knowledge or respect for mental illness on its own.

THEN, there is a quote by Amy Price, the manager of the hotel during the incident, who is now profiting on a book she is writing about HER experience:

"I want to share my story," she says.

"But this isn't a horror story or anything like that. This is a story about struggle."

Okay, Amy. Whose fucking struggle are you writing about here? I legitimately don't know if she is referring to hers or Elisa's, but either way, it's gross.

It makes me so sad that this whole situation warranted MILLIONS of theories, millions of internet trolls writing articles about the "BIZARRE" death of this girl. This case is not fucking bizarre. It is unfortunate but it is not bizarre. This case was plastered all over internet lists with the titles "bizarre, unexplained cases of missing people." It's not unexplained, and it only was not for long.

These "web sleuths" were busy having a blast, going to the crime scene, smiling as they recorded, posting videos about their stupid theories. Trolls posting their dumb, far-fetched theories without knowing all of the facts, thinking they know better than the professionals, who DO have the findings, did do the labs, did do the investigations. And people still insist that THERE HAS TO BE MORE.

Of course, I don't know all the facts either. BUT, according to the actual professionals involved rather than the entire population of people who love a good "mystery," Elisa's toxicology results showed that her levels of the medications she was supposed to be on signified she had not been taking them as she should have been. They also found bottles of her medicine that had more pills than prescribed, also showing that she had not been taking them.

THEN, she was removed from the room she had been sharing with a few others due to "odd behavior" leaving weird post-its telling them to go away, or whatever. THEN, apparently going into the hotel lobby and screaming "I'm crazy!" or whatever it was.

Although all experiences with mental illnesses are unique, all of these details plus the footage, both detailing erratic behavior, leave no doubt in my mind that the professionals, SHOCKINGLY, CRAZILY, may be right! Who thunk it! I have legitimately acted in the ways described and shown in the video. I don't and couldn't understand HERS, but I understand MY paranoia, hallucinations, experiences I have had, and the actions that are presented, and I guarantee some would look very similar to that footage. Ask the few people who know me best what it's like when I'm not on my meds or fuck them up. I legitimately saw myself in her actions.

Yet, the internet losers had to fixate on a death metal artist who had stayed in the hotel for a few days A YEAR before any of this happened and legitimately ruined his life. His alibi was completely valid and he was dismissed by investigators. He was out of the country, he had tons of substantial paperwork and proof that he was, but that didn't matter.

Because no one takes bipolar disorder seriously, dismissing it as just mood swings, people being dramatic, seeking attention, being lazy, and everyone needs something more sensational, THIS wasn't even an option. They needed to fixate on crazy, fun conspiracy theories, watching the footage over and over and over again, sitting in their caves with their thumbs up their asses writing about their ballpark theories, internet bullying innocent people instead of doing any research on bipolar disorder, instead of defending or considering that it was a psychotic episode, which literally all of the official facts and footage present.

Clearly I'm not a professional either, but like... watch the show and you tell me. You tell me what you think is likely. You tell me what the professionals agree on. But before you make that call, try reading a little bit about bipolar disorder. Try reading about the psychotic episodes that can come with it. It probably won't change your mind, but oh well. It probably is just the hotel being haunted, ya know. Right? This is just my little rant that doesn't matter.

If you want to think it was a ghost, a demon, if it was a murder even though she literally had zero signs of any physical violence and there was zero evidence of it and all evidence the other way, you do that, boo. Have a blast. Hey, I 100% could be wrong, right? Absolutely. Who am I? Just a little dramatic, stupid, crazy nobody.

That's just my take, no better than any other internet trolls, I suppose. When all is said and done, in my little fantasy world, I guess people would just take bipolar disorder seriously and understand the severity of it. People would take it to consideration for the actions and words of those who have it. That's not fun, though. Everyone loves money, everyone loves a good story. Everyone loves making fun of people. Everyone loves a disability you can see. Everything I do is just me being an oddball. Everyone loves to be an internet bully.

I'm sorry for Elisa and her family who have had to deal with years of this. Years of people dismissing the severity of mental illness and obsessing over ghost stories, obsessing over the number of likes or views they get, money they make off of it.

Wow, that was a blast. I'm fairly confident no one will read this, but I feel a lot better that I put that out there. Again, I'm a little nobody, so nothing I say matters, but that's just my take on all of it. I've given up trying to convince anyone that I'm anything but weird, because I know no one will care or accept that. I'll just keep making people feel uncomfortable and keep looking like an idiot. Woe is me, am I right?

You have a blessed day now.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

A Mere Mortal - Chapter Four

A/N: This story is based on the prompt : Vampires cannot enter a house without your permission, but what if your landlord’s a vampire? It’s his house, he’s just letting you live there. Part of the Landlord Vampire Fic Frenzy hosted by the amazing @just-the-hiddles​ . Feedback’s appreciated as always! :))

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Bucky Barnes x Vampire! Loki x Human! Reader

Word count: 2298

Warnings: 18+ stuff. Kissing and make out scenes. Foul language.

Tags: @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @ladyacrasia​ @tcc-gizmachine​ @alexakeyloveloki​

Taglists open! Send me an ask if you wish to be tagged in future chapters.

...

It had been a while since you woke up before the alarm went off. Given the fact that you were up late writing and editing some initial drafts, this morning you felt surprisingly fresh.

Might as well go for a run.

Pulling out your trainers, a blue fleece jacket and a beanie that you found in your luggage you stepped out.

The weather was nippy, perfect for a jog through the little forest trail. Plugging your headphones you put on a ‘workout mix’ and started a slow jog following a narrow path that winded through the woods.

When the cabin came into view you leaned against a tree to catch your breath. Huffing, you pulled the earplugs out and looked around.

Faint whimpering sounds reached your ears from behind another tree to your right. You stepped around and a scared looking pup, not older than three weeks came into view. He was visibly shivering in the cold and you couldn’t help but pick him up.

“Where’s your mama little one?” you murmured looking around for any signs of an adult dog, but found none. “You hungry?” already walking inside with him tucked in your arms.  

Thankfully you had leftover steamed veggies in your fridge from last night which would have to suffice for now.

You mashed the carrots and broccoli and offered it to the puppy along with some water which he accepted with grateful wags of his tiny tail.

Letting him out in the harsh weather would be cruel, might as well find a box and some sheets to keep him warm.

The aroma of freshly made coffee still lingered in the air, after you took a quick shower and breakfast when your phone rang. It was a Face Time video from Sam.

“Sammie! How are you?”

“You seem awfully chipper (Y/N). I’m good. How’re things in creepy town?”

You rolled your eyes but laughed, you had missed him.

“For one stop calling it creepy town. Second, things couldn’t be better. I went for a run in the woods earlier today and came home with a puppy!”

“You did what?”

“Yeah well he looked so fragile and cold, I couldn’t leave him out there. Plus look how cute he is!” You said flipping the camera around so that Sam could see the pup who was now curled up into a ball on the rug, sleeping peacefully.

“Cute. Hey did you meet your landlord Mr. Bones was it?”

“It’s Barnes Sam, yes we met. Bucky is such a nice guy. Ah. A perfect gentleman. Like you wouldn’t believe.” you gushed excitedly. You recalled the meeting and he listened patiently, sneaking in a few teasing remarks in between. 

“I smell a crush (Y/N/N)”

“Oh stop, I’ve only met him twice, we had drinks the other day. Nothing happened” you spoke with a tad bit of disappointment. Something almost happened.

“So what? You can make a move. Guys dig that.” Sam insisted.

“I moved here to write my novel Sam. I can’t just randomly hook up with my landlord.”

You can do both, pun intended. Your horny alter ego spoke up.

You cut the call after filling him in on most of the details. You didn’t mention that weird sex dream with Loki, in fact didn’t mention the man at all. You hadn’t figured what to make of it, it was completely out of the blue.

Something you didn’t want to dwell on too much.

...

Mid-morning was spent trying get the pup to not pee next to the kitchen cabinet and to find a name for the little guy.

After a few tries he wagged his tiny tail when you said Bear, quite fitting, he was brown and shaggy.

You had lunch at the grill, when Bear had finally slept in his box and you were sure he wouldn’t get too lonely in your absence. You purchased kibbles, a leash and a few other things from Fred’s on your way home.

…

Bucky’s POV

I’ve been staring at this page for the longest time, reading the same sentence over and over again.

I managed to get my hands on (Y/N)’s latest book online and got it shipped here. An anthology of short stories, the title was enough to intrigue me, Mere Mortals.

She had a flair for writing thrillers, no wonder this was a best-seller.

This particular story caught my attention about a vampire falling madly in love with a human. A beautifully written tragedy with a line that struck me the most,

“Loving the monsters never ends well for the human.”

The book made me wonder how she might react if she finds out who I really am. Would she run away or be brave enough like one of her characters and stick around. Probably best to leave that topic for later.

Your book is fantastic (Y/N). You weren’t kidding when you said you love the supernatural. :P

How’s the new one coming along?

I didn’t want to seem too pushy but I couldn’t help myself. Something about her made it hard for me to stay away.

You read my book! I’m glad you found my obsession amusing. As far as the new one goes, I’ve been at it for days with very little progress. Starting to freak out. :(

The promptness of her reply made me smile. I quickly texted back and invited her over for dinner later today.

With that I walked inside to get a refill of my dinner for the night from the fridge.

…

Bear sat looking up at you with his head tilted to one side, as you explained you’d be leaving him alone for a few hours to go meet Bucky.

“And please don’t destroy the house, we’re here on lease. I’ll be back soon.” You placed a kiss on his nose and stood up to leave.

The walk to Bucky’s house was spent adjusting your hair every few minutes and making sure your breath was minty fresh. As trees cleared a huge cottage came into view which you could only guess was his ancestral home.

It looked surprisingly modern though with a few overgrown weeds around and English ivy covering most of the exterior walls. Stopping outside the front door, you checked your appearance one last time on your phone camera and knocked.

“Come on in, it’s open.” Bucky’s voice came through from a distance. You pushed the door open and stepped in the dimly lit house.

The wallpaper covered foyer reminded you of an old museum. Reaching the living room, you looked around to find most of the tables topped with antiques and artifacts. Old paintings that definitely belonged to the 18th century decorated the walls. All in all, the house looked like it belonged to someone who was stinking rich.

“Sorry for not opening the door, I almost lit my kitchen on fire.”

You turned around to see Bucky dressed in a button down tucked neatly in dark denims and the sleeves folded up to the elbow, hair in disarray but still freaking gorgeous walk in the living room. You looked around the room and said, “I didn’t know you lived in a museum.”

“Oh it’s our family home, almost been the same since my great grandfather built it. I’ll give you a tour later.”

“You’re rich.”

“No my parents were rich.” He chuckled.

“That is a typical rich person reply right there.” You shot back as you followed him into the kitchen.

The kitchen was bigger than your first apartment, very rustic looking with modern appliances to add contrast. The smell of Bolognese wafting through the closed pot on the stove made your stomach grumble.

“Hope you like Italian.” He gave you a smile and opened the lid to show off his work proudly.

“Is there anyone who doesn’t? It’s my favorite.” You walked closer and inhaled deeply before sighing rather dramatically.

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

You ate at the breakfast bar, though there was a dining room. Of course it was a twelve seat formal one complete with a fancy chandelier and everything.

“Are you like a prince or something hiding your true identity from me?” you asked eyeing him with mock suspicion.

He laughed, “I could be a mafia for all you know.” You got the latter part right, (Y/N)

“Nah don’t get that vibe from you.”

“Well my family owned a few properties around here including the cabin you’re living in, and the library, and now I look after it. My great grandfather was a part of the town council and everything, it’s boring.”

“Interesting would be the word I would use. Though a tiny part of me was hoping you’d say mafia and prove me wrong.”

You kept the conversation going through rest of the dinner and he seemed eager to know about your past as well. After a tour of the house, he offered you a nightcap as you settled on a plush couch in the living area. Comfortable silence that fell between you was broken as you heard soft music coming from an antique looking vinyl player.

“Care to dance?”

You couldn’t help but giggle as you took his outstretched hand and stood from your spot.

“See this is the kinda stuff that happens either in romantic movies or the beginnings of a serial killer movie.” You slid your arms around his neck as both of you gently swayed to the music.

The things you were feeling at that moment definitely were something you had only read about in those classic romantic novels you used to love so much in your growing years.

“Let’s just say it’s the former for now okay?” Bucky kept his arms around your waist and looked at your lips. You wasted no time in replying as you pulled him in for a kiss.

Lips brushed against each other softly at first, delicate like butterfly wings, he could feel the warmth of your skin and taste the wine you’d had earlier. 

Soon you lost yourself in the moment as instincts took over and your fingers weaved through his hair. One hand moved to the back of your head and the other stayed on your back as he pulled you even closer and the innocent kiss turned fervent.

The need to pull away for air became necessary as you broke the kiss and pressed your foreheads together, grinning ear to ear.

“The cooking, the wine and dance. You’re very old school in your ways Mr. Barnes.”

“I sure love it when you call me that doll.” 

With that he pressed his lips to yours once more and ravaged your mouth. Backing you up against a wall, his hands dropped down to your hips and he pressed himself closer to you, making his hard-on evident. A moan escaped you as he moved his mouth from your lips down to your neck where he found your sweet spot with ease.

All he could think about was the feel of your flushed skin, your heady scent and the smell of blood flowing through your carotid. He pressed his nose at the spot where your shoulder and neck met and inhaled deeply. This made your eyes flutter open.

“What’re you doing?” your voice came out weak as you tugged on his hair lightly, not understanding his actions but not really wanting him to move away.

“Stopping myself from going too far. I find you irresistible (Y/N).” he said slowly kissing his way back to your lips, eyes still closed.

“And you intrigue me. You’ll definitely end up as my protagonist if I ever write a romance novel.” you decided to lighten the sexually charged atmosphere with your dull sense of humor. You weren’t one of those who’d sleep with someone on their first date. Deciding it was time to leave you gently nudged him and he stepped away to give you space.

He walked you back to your home as always and stopped at the porch steps.

“Probably wise to not invite you in just now, Bear must’ve pooped in several places.”

“Bear?”

“Shit! I forgot to ask. I found a puppy this morning and decided to take him in. I hope its okay with you.” You silently prayed he wasn’t one of those ‘no pets allowed’ guy, considering his own house was so prim and proper, there wasn’t a stray fly around.  

“Who doesn’t like dogs?”

Vampires. Vampires don’t gel well with dogs.

But he couldn’t say no to you. You were probably safer with one in the house.

You stood on your tippy toes to give him a goodbye kiss which lasted a few seconds that had you reconsider going in alone.

…

Loki peered through from the shadows as you kissed Bucky outside your cabin. Fists clenched, eyes seeing red he stormed away through the woods searching for an outlet, a prey.

Rage turned into blood thirst, he spotted the lady who worked at the grill walking through the empty town square. Perfect.

Her wrist watch read 12:30, as Jenny made her way home after her shift ended at the grill. The area was deserted, illuminated only by the street lamps. She heard twigs snapping behind her and turned to locate the source of the noise.

There was no one.

Slightly alarmed, she turned back to see a tall dark figure standing right in front of her. Her initial shock wore off as she recognized the man. It was Loki.

“Mr. Laufeyson! You scared me.”

Loki stalked closer with eyes dark and an unreadable look on his face.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just out for a bite.”

He grabbed Jenny before she could run and sunk his fangs in her neck.

Her piercing scream echoed into the night, soon coming to a stop like her pulse.

…

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi :) I... really wanna read a fanfic or two but I can't find one I vibe with xD So... do you know one that's not too long (around 100k words maybe), has hurt and comfort, smut (am I allowed to ask about that?? Ahhhh) and a happy ending? Top!lock would be a bonus but it's not necessary. And if it's a nice AU (like... any kind but no crossovers pls), it would be perfect! :D By the way, I found your blog only a few hours ago and I already feel really comfy and Idk, kinda at home here ^-^

Hi Nonny!!!

Welcome to my corner of the Tumblrsphere!!! I’m so happy you’ve found me, LOL, because I love all my followers and friends! <3

First of all, I think it’s super cute that “not too long” to you is “around 100K” LOL LOL LOL!!! <3 That said, I’d argue all my fic recs are fabulous, LOL. But again, I’m stupidly proud of the wonderful lists I’ve accumulated, because it satisfies my organization kink LOL. And yes, you’re ALWAYS allowed to ask for smut here LOL. 

ANYWAY, so I’m gonna use this ask as an excuse to post up a long-overdue part two to my 50 to 100K fic list! But first, here’s some past lists for the genres you’re looking for:

FIC MASTER PAGES: PG1 || PG 2 || PG 3

Toplock (Mar 2020)

Omegaverse

Please Check PG 3 for all my AU fic lists. There’s a lot :)

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 1: Under 5K Words 

Hurt / Comfort Pt. 2: 5K to 10K Words

Fandom Favourites / Popular Fics

I hope those will get you started! So now, here’s the main event!! Hope you enjoy them!

50 - 100 K WORDS Pt. 2 (Novel Length)

See also:

Fics Under 2000 w.

Fics Under 2000 w. Pt. 2

Fics Under 2000 w. Pt. 3

E-Rated Johnlock for Newcomers Pt 1 (Short Fics under 20K)

Novella Length Fics: 25 to 50K (Aug. 2019)

Novel Length Fics: 50 to 100K (Nov. 2018)

Novel Length Fics: 100K+ w. (May 2019)

Long S3/Post-S3 Fics (20K+ w.) [Apr 2020]

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017)

Smut-Free Fics Over 50K (Aug 2019)

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

floating through a dark blue sky by Lediona (M, 58,966 w. || Notting Hilll AU || POV John, Celebrity Sherlock, First Date / Time / Kiss, Past Drug Addiction, Angst with a Happy Ending) – Of course, I’d seen his films and always thought he was, well, brilliant -- but, you know, a million miles from the world I live in. Or, when John is the owner of a travel book shop and the famous Sherlock Holmes stops in one day.

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

This Thing All Things Devours by cypress_tree (E, 63,844 w., 15 Ch. || In Time AU || Science Fiction, Dystopian Universe, First Meetings, Action / Adventure, Romance) – In 2169, time is money—literally. Humans are genetically engineered to stop aging at 25, when the numbers on their arm start counting down from one year. When that time is up, they die. The only way to get more time is to earn it, borrow it, or steal it.John Watson lives day-to-day in the crowded slums of Zone 13. He never imagined living any differently—until he meets the practically-immortal Sherlock, and helps him on a case to track a local time-thief...

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

The Monument of Memory by J_Baillier (M, 79,663 w., 14 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It Fic / S4 is Canon, Angst, Family Drama, Guilt, Case Fic, John Loves Sherlock, Complicated Feelings, Mentalism / Hypnosis, Murder, Grieving John, Sherlock is a Bit Not Good, Team Work, Trust Issues, BAMF John, Psychological Trauma, Protective John, Autistic-Spectrum Sherlock, Parentlock, John POV) –  A genius traumatised by a past he's only beginning to recall. The psychopath sister that time forgot. A missing woman and a mentalist who may or may not be a murderer. And, in the middle of it all, stands John Watson.

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017 Series by distantstarlight (E, 96,540 w. across 31 stories || Prompt Ficlets, Assorted Kinks, PWP) – A collection in response to the 31 Days of Porn Challenge issued by AtlinMerrik! Thanks for doing that because this has been buttload of fun (that joke never gets old). All stories will be brief stand-alone one-shots.

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w., 23 Ch. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) – Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school's Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 97,884 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing... rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same...

[lizacstuff]

Sen Çal Kapımı and Eda/Serkan asks

Hey all, thanks for the asks, I got a bunch after episode 23, so I’m answering them in one big post under the cut. 

(KEEP READING)

Anonymous said: Thoughts on how or if Eda & Serkan finally reconcile in the next few episodes? The show does a nice job of making you feel bad for both Eda & Serkan when it comes to them not being together. It is tough not to melt when Eda & Serkan look at each other and also touch not to yell at the screen “kiss, just finally kiss again please” because the actors have so much chemistry together. Eda has the willpower of a freakin goddess honestly that is the only explanation for them not hooking up post breakup. That aside, I am not crazy about the fact that the show really ramped up the Serkan flirting, love declarations and sweet gestures. While it is totally understandable that Eda would rebuff a lot of it especially initially sometimes it feels like it has also prevented her from ever getting a chance to sort through her feelings. I took the contract as her way to put space between them especially the clause about only work related talk but it feels like she never really got that space. She is just in a constant state of trying to juggle her worries, fears, doubts, desires, a lot of which she probably had before the breakup with her pain from the breakup & secret and she has to constantly be on her guard so as not to give into Serkan. On top of work, trying to be a good friend, school, etc. And now there is another woman in the picture trying to make moves on Serkan which is clearly upsetting her as well. I get Serkan wanting to show Eda that he is willing to change and how much he cares about her but how about just saying “ you know I love you and I will be ready to move forward whenever you decide you are too” and just have them be coworkers for a bit. It would honestly be interesting to see what kind of reaction that gets from Eda.

You make a lot of great points. Honestly, I think Serkan’s actions can be chalked up to a few things:

A) He just can’t help himself. He probably, intellectually wants her to have the time she needs, but when they’re together he just doesn’t know how to hold back. It’s completely in-character and it’s how he acted when they were broken up too. He broke up with her for her own good, and logically knew he needed to stay away from her for both their sakes, but in reality he couldn’t do it and took every opportunity to spend time with her.  

B) They are drawn to one another so when they’re together, neither can resist so it always escalates beyond what either was planning.

C) She always responds to him, and he knows how to get to her, so I think in any given moment he thinks he’s just one move away from her being ready to get back together, and he pushes his luck. He just wants it so badly. 

I also think that Eda would be in a very different emotional place if they hadn’t been thrown for a loop twice.  If she and Serkan had gone to dinner at the end of Episode 20 and talked, they’d be in a better place. Instead, of a nice healing dinner, we got Eda being emotionally scarred by thinking he abandoned her again, because that's how she felt after the break up. Even though she now knows he didn’t stand her up, she still went through those emotions, and they still lost the opportunity to spend that time together and come to an understanding.  

Same thing goes for movie night. She was excited, she wanted to go to his place, she wanted to watch a movie with him, but she gets there and finds this woman who has already unsettled her trying to take her place in his life. So again instead of having time together, alone, when she’s made an overt move, she leaves upset. 

Also, practically, TPTB know that this show’s entire thing is the sexual tension between these two characters so they just want to keep it ramped up to eleventy at all times. Which I can appreciate as a viewer.

As far as the reconciliation, I just want it to be emotional and beautiful and I want to see them happy. Happy like the ice-skating scene, but fully back together and that happy.  I don’t want to put expectations on the next episode, HOWEVER, it is a holiday episode, it is exactly 10 episodes since they broke up, so the time feels right for something good to happen. 

Hi I would like to have your opinion on episode 23 what do you think about it ? I found that there was too much balca she’s almost in every scene. Also the writing felt a bit inconsistent?? especially for serkan and eda (idk how to explain it, but it was weird at times maybe because of the writers changing).  

Full episode thoughts are here.  

At this point any Balca is too much Balca. I’m already ready for that crazy lady to be vanquished. 

As far as the writing feeling inconsistent, maybe it's because the last two episodes had different writers, but I think it's more that they're trying to pad out the series and they needed a few filler episodes until they get back together.  They want to give us the sexual tension and the heart-melting moments, because that is the entire point of the show, but if the emotional momentum kept pace with every scene they gave us, Ed and Serkan would be married by now!  And then the show would be over. So, honestly, I think they're struggling trying to give us those moments without getting them back together too quickly, which results in some of those inconsistencies you talk about. 

In the end, I have full confidence that this show will deliver in every way most of us want it too, but it may be trying for some to watch in real time.  My advice is to be patient and don't judge it too hard. It's a sweet, silly confection of a show. Let the beauty of Eda and Serkan and their shippy moments spark joy and don't think too hard about the rest.  

Anonymous said: I can't wait to see the reconciliation between eda and serkan especially since this time it will be eda's turn to confess her feelings and finally tell him I love you. How would you like this to happen? I think that the confession could not have come at a better time with the arrival of the grandmother.

Can’t wait for their reconciliation and an Eda “I Love You.”  I’ve very much of the opinion that she has already expressed that sentiment several times, and I am very sure Serkan knows how she feels, HOWEVER, I also, badly want her to say it and tell him what he means to her. The audience deserves it! I don’t have many preconceived notions about it, I just want it to feel like a big moment and I want it to be properly emotional. And then I want them to have sex. Because frankly they’re gonna explode if they don’t. 

As for grandma, I was wondering if they were going to bring her in when they were still apart, or right after they got together, or right before they were about to get back together.  It appears it’s the final option, right before they were about to get back together. It was about to happen, Eda was ready to turn the page and go to Paris with him and that would have cemented everything. Let’s hope Gran’s appearance does not derail that, and they still get back together. All I want is to see is them united and working as a team. Perhaps they’ll get back together, but keep it on the dl so they can suss out what Grandma wants.  We shall see. 

Also I want to see Serkan’s reaction to Grandma having arranged a marriage for Eda. Dude is not going to be happy! 

Anonymous said: I can't get enough of this scene when he described it all through her, every word was describing her actions and showed her why he is so sure around her. He can read her like a book like she is so naked in front of him. She can’t hide anything any more.

They sizzle! 

Anonymous said: I really like how the writers ended up reversing roles with serkan and eda. Serkan was so closed and cold in the beginning and eda was the one who tried everything to make him open up a little more to her. Now it's Serkan's turn to do everything to make Eda open up to him, trust him again and reveal his feelings (after the break-up and everything that happened it's understandable that she acts like that, she needs time).

This is really well observed! Great point.  They really did have a role reversal.  

I think some people forget how cold and punishing Serkan was in the first handful of episodes. Like go back and watch the second half of episode 3, watch how he treats her, it is HARSH.  (By the by, can we get that Serkan to make an appearance and put Balca and potentially Babaanne, in their place?) 

I love Serkan, his pain gives me pain, but it’s okay that Eda has taken a little time and has had a few stops and starts on her way back to him.  

Anonymous said: why didn't eda say anything when serkan told her i love you in french? I know that given the situation she couldn't have said it back but I expected her to at least say something.

DUUUDE, she did say something. She said that she understood what he said, then she went a bit weak in the knees, looked at him with stars in her eyes and was about a millimeter away from kissing him before coming to her senses. Then, with a huge smile and in a very flirty manner, she told him not to speak French anymore, pretty much admitting to him what his speaking French does to her heart, body, soul, mind, everything!!!!

If you’re reading that scene in any way negatively, you’re watching this show entirely wrong. Seriously, reset your perspective and get a better attitude, you’ll enjoy everything about your life more. 

Anonymous said: I saw something around here and I would like to bounce on it eda clearly has the attention to leave and no longer see serkan but she continues to act (with her scenes of jealousy) and give false hope to serkan why?

Eda is confused, the last four eps she’s been in a constant emotional tug o war. On one side is her aunt and her stubborn pride telling her that she needs to leave and start fresh. On the other side is her heart and her soul knowing that she loves him and that they are inevitable. 

It’s only been a week or so since she found out everything and Serkan is the one putting the hard press on her. He’s a big boy, he can handle the situation. He has demonstrated multiple times that he knows exactly where her heart is, she’s not giving him any false hope by having a hard time resisting him. Her jealousy is an honest reaction, even if she won’t admit it, and her succumbing to his flirting and declarations is an honest reaction.  Which is exactly what he wants, he wants to push her into recognizing and admitting her honest feelings. Besides, Eda had pretty much decided to move forward with him by the end of the last episode, which is pretty dang quick in the scheme of things. 

If you want to enjoy this show, don’t tie yourself into knots trying to pit these two lovers against one another. They’d be the first to defend the other if you did it in front of them. 

Anonymous said: Do you know if there is a new episode of SCK this coming Saturday or are they taking a break till 2021? Episode 23 just about did me in and I need the next one ASAP. I loved all of the Edser scenes! I hated all of the scenes with Blaca but am trying to stay optimistic that the writers know what they are doing. It cannot always be smooth sailing for Eda & Serkan but every time they finally start moving toward reconciliation, a problem arises that understandably (in my opinion) causes Eda to put her wall back up. I get since we never have Eda saying she loves Serkan out loud/openly that this is the show’s way of telling us that she does want to reconcile & loves him as much as he loves her but dang, an “I love you Serkan” at some point would be amazing. But like Serkan was being a total idiot about Blaca that whole episode. He focused solely on Eda being jealous which is true but kept him from seriously considering that Blaca was bad news. It was frustrating to watch even though there has to be drama to keep things interesting. Staying positive that Eda & Serkan (and hopefully Ayfer & Aydan as well) will be a United front against Grandma & Blaca in the next episode.

I believe episode 24 will air on December 26th, no new episode on January 2nd. 

All I want is for them to take on Grandma and Balca together!  Bring it, show, I know you want to. No misunderstandings, no miscommunications, just facing them together.

You’re right about Eda’s walls going up and down. The last four episodes have been all about Eda and Serkan making slow progress towards each other and then the end scene is something that resets the progress. The dinner sabotage which picked at Eda’s abandonment issues and prevented them having a heart-to-heart talk which probably would have done them a world of good. The kiss which was followed by a slap. Then Eda once again working up the emotional courage to make a move, but she shows up at his house only to find Balca there and that derails everything. Then in the last episode, Eda had decided to start fresh, go to Paris with him on the most romantic date in the world, but boom there’s Babaanne. 

She’s going to say I Love You, and it’s going to be glorious. Now when that happens is another matter. We shall see, however it wouldn’t hurt to...

[adowbaldwin]

Bed pan horror

for @sazmags and @butternuggets-blog - an expansion from the RP series ‘ therapy’ with @begins-with-an-absence-of-desire

December 1880

“So much for promises” Eva hissed, storming into Philippe’s office “you lickspittled, Hornswoggling ASS” she bellowed, eyes filling with fury as she caught sight of Baldwin in his father’s office.

She caught wind he was following orders from Philippe to intervene in matters in the Transvaal Rebellion.

“Wrangle your strumpet Baldwin” Philippe lifted his head from the map he was pinning pegs into “Or I will do it for you” he growled, eyeing her with as much hate as she did

“Bastard come near me and ill-“ her idle threat was cut short, when Baldwin grabbed her arm, pulling her from the office

“How dare you” he hissed “I gave you orders-“

His jaw snapped loudly, the crack delivered by her punch sending his face sidewards “ORDERS?” she bellowed, and Ysabeau winced from the decibels, and she was out in the gardening preening her Cheery Crocuses’. “I am not merely some solider you can order about I’m your PARTNER”

His head turned back, thunderous. He shoved her up against the wall, grabbing her chin with such force she thought it might snap “You can either behave or leave. I will speak of this matter later” he growled as she wriggled under his constraint “stop moving” he gritted out

She gawked her throat, retching back and spat in his face “I piss on our grave” she wriggled more, and his hand smashed her wrists to the wall, making a slight dent. He slipped his hand from her jaw to her neck and squeezed, not till she couldn’t breathe but enough that she understood no matter how much she tried, she wasn’t going to win.

She was feisty, and he liked the pain but there was nothing on this earth that would make her stronger then he was. He was almost 1300 years her senior, and despite her own history of fighting in wars her strength dwindled in comparison to his own.

Tears flooded her face “you lied to me” she sobbed, unable to look at him “you said you were finished fighting. you are supposed to be in finance”

“I will speak of this matter later” he hissed back quietly “do not disturb mans work again. Am I understood” he jolted her chin to look back at him, and he bit her lip drawing a little blood “Am I understood” he snarled

“Yes master” she hissed back with as much venom as a poisonous snake

He pushed away from the wall lightly, though his hands were still on her throat. He took this moment of passiveness to pull his lips to hers, running his tongue over where he had bitten into her. She went dizzy, eyes still burning from tears but she couldn’t help melting into him. He finally let her go, lips delightfully swollen and she sulked off to his tower awaiting for their argument after his meeting

                      He launched a book at his fathers head when he re entered the office, who was almost wetting himself from laughter “If you do not marry that one Baldwin you are a fool” he grinned at his sons dismay

“I shall not marry a dead woman” he snarled “she is unruly, no lady of a house a far too opinionated” he slumped heavily back into his chair, eyes running over the map of South Africa.

“Ah yes. But she does put a twitch in your pants no” he grinned, as another book went flying. He dodged this one, launching it back towards his son “You accept your fate that you would not settle for a meek flower, and we can move on”

They resumed their talks, though Baldwins mind wondered back to the little temptress currently fuming in his towers.

----------------------------------------------------------------

He found her taking quill to paper at her desk in his room, writing notes to her mother. He came behind her and planted a kiss to her head “I leave tomorrow morning” he whispered, knowing she would be displeased

“Yes Sir, would you like me to bend over now sir” she hissed, the quill snapping as she exerted too much pressure. She didn’t turn to face him, face ridden with fury

“Eva” he cooed “Don’t be angry with me, it shall only be a few short months” his hands smoothed over her sleeves, inching his way closer to her bodice.

“Yes sir, would you like me to spit and shine your shoes before you go?” her voice levelled into what she imagine a ‘good housewife’ would sound, to please his majesty whom clearly seeks the palatable lady

“we both know you have enough spit to go around” he growled “do you wish I leave without a goodbye” he was not intending on it, he was good at worming his way into her good books.

She folded her envelope, turning in her chair sideways to face him. They were nose to nose, and she lifted the envelope up to her mouth, darting her tongue out to lick the seal. Envelopes were still a rare commodity, especially those with the odd gum tacked to the seal but she took full advantage of the many perks it was to be in relations with a De Clermont. They always had the shiniest toys first.

He growled, a feral noise erupting from his throat as she licked the paper “Eva do not bate me”

She bit her lip slowly letting it fall from her mouth. She moved an inch, so she was straddling the chair facing him, leaning against the leather. She kept her eyes on him as she picked her bodice open, the hook eyes popping as she did “I lay on my back now, like a good lady to please her Lord” he words dripped with venom and condescension

He growled, nostrils starting to flare “For God sake Eva, I can’t refuse my father” he all but yelled “I have my orders”

She deadpanned him “so do I” her last button popped and his patience faltered  when she shimmied out of her skirts, leaving her clad in only a thin chemise and stays.

He grabbed her chin again, this time exerting so much force her jaw cracked under the pressure. She reared her head back, hand covering her mouth at the moment of searing pain that coursed through her body. He was absolutely mortified. He had never, and would never hurt her in a way she didn’t like. She was one for abit of roughness as he was, delighting in a good spanking but never that.

He paled, as much as he could for a vampire and dropped to his knees and actually kissed her feet “im so sorry Eva” he whispered

It took a moment for her vampire DNA to work the crack, mending whatever had snapped and she looked down to meet his horrified gaze. She was as much in shock as he was, and she was not thinking clearly.

She was a warrior like he had been, not having fought in as many battles, but never the less still a solider at heart. Her hand that was flat on the desk moved to grab her knife, and she clutched it between her fingers. A loud swoosh echoed the room as she battered him up side his head with the flat blunt of her knife.

Only it wasn’t her knife, it was the still warm bedpan that had been propped against the wall from the mornings linen change.

He thumped to the floor as soon as the connection was made, dazed and seeing stars. All he faintly heard was someone screaming for cold compress.

                       He woke up groggy, eye in slight pain. He remembered taking a good hit, and also remembered why. He peeped open his eyes to see Eva sat staring down at him on the bed and she was sniffling lightly. He reached up, wiping away her falling tears “Don’t cry doll, the blood will react with all the mercury on your face”

She tried to laugh but she couldn’t, her lip blubbered as she muttered a flurry of apologies “I didn’t mean – I thought it was my knife”

He pulled her down, and she curled ontop of his body “it is already forgiven, doll” his lips planted fluttered kisses along her head and she calmed

She peered up at him, with the most innocent doe eyed expression she could muster “However will I make it up to you, in the next six hours before you leave me”

He groaned, feeling her hips move to be flush with his own “Eva I have to leave, they need a commander not more soldiers. If it were bodies they needed, Matthew would be sent. Philippe needs someone to navigate both sides of the war”

She knew, she already knew. He would not disavow anything Philippe said. He could ask him to change his name to Nancy and he would “I know, you are following orders” her lips sought his, savouring his taste and the overwhelming scent of sandal leather and woodfire.

His hands crept up under her petticoats, the many layers ruffling as he did so. His hands found her sweet spot and he moaned into her mouth “no knee length draws today, doll?” he questioned, circling her in ways that made her toes curl

She bit her lip, groaning as he teased her “Are you going to please me properly” she shimmied her weight, flicking the covers from his body “or are you going to talk me to sleep”

He pinched her, jolting her alert “perhaps I am too dazed to love on you properly doll. Whom lies fault with that?”

She lifted herself out of her petticoats, hiking up her chemise. Her hands sought to free himself from his trousers, pinging his braces from his shoulders. He sprang free, ready as ever and she happily sunk onto him “then allow me” she moaned as they connected deeply for the last time they would in four long months till he returned home form the Boar War.

[fruitylibrarian]

quest of the spear live rewatch!

i already spewed my pre call to adventure flynn thoughts all over a text post but I would like to repeat: pre-canon flynn my beloved <3

yes he is a bit of a bastard but he just loves his books and he’s so genuinely just like. passionate and like…. Big? does that make sense? like i mean inside. not literally. bright

flynn’s mom is so fucking funny

and she’s Trying Her Best

you know one thing I don’t understand, I assume that flynn could afford to keep going to college because of like grants and scholarships since he’s all smart and like, even if his mom is well off, no one below the morally bankrupt millionaire line can pay for 22 degrees and not die of no-money-itis otherwise known as Starving

but like. why not become a professor or some other academia position?

you’d be incredibly overqualified and you’re a white dude, so while academia isn’t exactly bursting with new spaces to fill I’m sure you could find something???? and like. a professor in particular, while baby flynn might not be great at the connection part, seems like a natural progression to at least try for considering it keeps you in that comfort zone and familiar space just in a different albeit familiar role, and allows you to go on long lectures people can’t interrupt. and like, professors literally like, part of their job is research and to continue learning, so like. it seems like the natural choice for him to go for?

don’t get me wrong, baby flynn in particular might not be extremely well suited considering his lack of people skills, but plenty of professors are brilliant slightly odd smarties who give long, super engaging theatrical lectures (sounds like him!) but suck at one on one meetings and talking to people or may be accidentally insulting, but like, their class is genuinely interesting and they grade decently so like, I think he could get past that hurdle is what I’m saying

obviously he’d have to work at it and get the skills necessary but you know what that means? MORE SCHOOL, BABY! just in a different direction! like just? it seems like the obvious choice for his situation

ah yes!!! magic letter!!! it’s kind of funny they do this, it’s a great hook and way to make applicants go Uh Excuse Me and want to know more but also like, there’s no proof magic happened either?

although you’d think some people would get obsessive like let me tell you if i encountered real ass magic like that i wouldn’t stop until i had an answer

ah the Incredibly Long Interview Line. it’s kinda how funny how like. Not Special he is but at the same time he is?

“never been treated so badly in my entire life!” what did you say to him charlene

i’m sure he deserved it i just want to know

wait oh no i just realized

all these people are dead

every single one of them got murdered in the first episode of the series

jesus that’s dark

not gonna be able to stop thinking about that one huh

also love how it’s pretty evenly men and women

although it’s still mostly white

fuck that lady just left crying I know they’re doing this to turn up the drama but DAMN, charlene

god he almost gave up. remember the timeline episode where he never became the librarian? weird.

Gkjlfkgjhfglh Where Do You Think You’re Going? (weak gesture like “me?”) Yes You. Get In Here amazing how can she even see him she’s around the CORNER. camera? magical surveillance? why? just to freak people out? amazing.

i do so love charlene, it’s a shame she wasn’t in the show more

also she literally never explains shit. What Makes You Think You Can Be The Librarian he doesn’t even know what that means, charlene

He Doesn’t Even Have A Library Science Degree

oh wow he does actually have librarian qualifications lmao

why did i not remember that

DLKFGJDFG I did remember him sherlocking her tho

wait her MARRIAGE? to WHO?

i thought her and judson were a thing despite jenkins being into her or something?

huh

also why does this qualify him to be The Librarian™ like oh he can sherlock? ok?

maybe it’s just bc he had the balls to do it

well, the sherlock thing is also not completely unhelpful it just doesn’t seem central to his skills, or at least, not the way he uses it (do we see him use it like this again? he usually applies more obscure knowledge then ye classic deduction sherlockian skills if I remember correctly which I may not because my brain is smooth)

judson is such a fucking drama queen

LKDJFGLKDJFGLDKFJG I FUCKING FORGOT HE LITERALLY JUST FUCKING REPEATED HIS MOM’S LITTLE PHRASE AMAZING

also why did he seem to think her sending everyone home meant he didn’t get it why would she stop all interviews because you fucked up

he just fucking walked out of a wall judson you are so dramatic

also warehouse 13 vibes huh. welcome to a world of endless wonder

I could do a whole fucking thesis on warehouse 13 and the librarians or—well that’s a whole other tangent

anYWYA

this interview was remarkably easy tho, it’s not like he wasn’t impressive but it wasn’t mindblowing either????? this coming from a big fan of flynn

the big shiny wonderous eyes as the library lights up……flynn my beloved

also his floofy hair ldkfgjdlkfgj

he’s like this is too good am I being prank’d

why the mona lisa?????iIs the mona lisa magic??? It only became famous because it got stolen why would it be magic??? Is this one of those we make it magic by believing it or some shit things???

Flynn Do Not Open The Random Box In The Library Of Incredibly Dangerous Artifacts

oh hello excalibur !!

oh rip flynn immediately being like “oh im not worthy, trust me” with 100 percent certainty im hurt oof

KSJFLGKDJGLKDJG THE APPLE “the apple from the garden of eden…….” *judson takes a bite* “actually I just left this here”

excalibur hello properly!!!!

judson is such a fucking DRAMA QUEEN he’s so casual!! and cal you too you slippery bitch!  

ah the jetpack.

DLFKGJDLKFGJ “it usually takes a new librarian four hours to find the jetpack. you did it in three! congratulations” love the implication that every librarian (at least since it was added to the library) has done this no matter how serious like the bad guy of this movie… *checks notes* edware wilde? jetpack. darrington dare, probably? jetpack. i like to think jenkins did it too (not technically a librarian, but you know)

flynn thinking of himself as embarrassing… ☹

HIS MOM IS SO PROUD OF HIM

part sweet, part funny, part rip

I don’t know what she was expecting when he said librarian tho like. originally he literally looked at shit for FRY COOk degrees don’t always mean shit you know

and librarian is up there with professor in Perfect Jobs For Flynn like what did you expect??? Like even if he’d become an archaeologist (a “cool” job) it’s not like that pays super well either as far as I know??

he was never going to be Traditionally Successful

he’s still the same person he still has the same strengths and passions of course he would go into academia and do something like librarian like????? her reaction saddens me.

just be happy for him!! look at him!!!

ok first of all even normal non magic librarians don’t just put books on shelves and that’s a condescending reduction of the job, and second of all, he is so happy!! he has a job, he’s taking responsibility, he’s meeting people, isn’t that enough??? isn’t that literally what you wanted??? even if it WERE what you think it is why couldn’t it just be a good first step??? like??? fuck??? you did been know that he was doing all those fancy degrees because he loved them not because they’d get him some super fancy job??? I mean egyptology is not the most profitable field you know this isn’t med school or whatever

god.

flynn’s mom, visibly not proud and very upset: of course im proud of you!

ok im being a little unfair, she’s trying and clearly she’s been supportive of him, if not straight up enabling of him, but like this is clearly being presented as like. normal person who is normal forced to take care of freakish strange son who is so nerdy and strange and a loser and she is so tired of his shenanigans and all that WORK she put in and he’s NOT FANCY AND CHANGING TO CONFORM TO HER IDEALS OF A GOOD SUCCESSFUL SON/MAN?

and that’s just all very. sigh.

the snake brotherhood are such obnoxiously cheesy villainous villains they’re even called the snake brotherhood

also I think we’re supposed to recognize him as the previous librarian from the painting but if I didn’t already know that I for sure would not know that

smartass flynn is a smartass

I never got people bringing someone coffee to impress them unless they knew their order like there’s no way you know who she likes her coffee so you could so easily get it wrong—like even if you don’t know exactly how much sugar she wants, you could also just get it entirely wrong like assume she likes black coffee but she likes it super sweet, or vice versa, or whatever. it can go wrong so easily!

or she could go “I Hate A Kiss Ass”

she did take it anyway tho so.

ah i did forget (or just not actively think about) how much like… christian mythology there is in this show :/ I mean we did been knew (excalibur and arthurian legend are pretty important to the mythology)

not that christian mythology is inherently bad it just gets a) annoying, b) boring, and c) y’know, very western centric and all

but then trying to reconcile di—you know what that’s a tangent for another time

then again I do assume no one is going to read this

the library really does just throw new librarians into death and go “hope this is fine!” huh

did they just imply god is canon in the “the librarian” universe

you were so cryptic with the no one thing!! just say NOONE

he’s scribbling in his notebook and mumbling out loud what a mood and I love him. what a nerd

ldfkgjdlkjg god sexy jazz music and a breeze this is so dumb

I do hate the forced love interests in all these movies it’s always like Some Hot Girl Is There And They Get It On!

like he really had chemistry with eve and banter but here it kinda feels like that wish fulfilment and then the nerd gets the hot chick the end and im saying that as the nerd

it doesn’t help that each movie has a different one who immediately is dropped as if she never existed afterwards

maybe it’s not as bad as I remember but. sigh

my instant impression of her is to not like her sorry nicole :/

she’s just so rude? she’s like. hot (derogatory)

i get there’s gender politics here with like. she’s used to being treated like a piece of meat and generally like, why not reap the benefits when you are going to get the creeps too, but like, also she’s just so unnecessarily rude—I mean rejecting his clumsy flirting is one thing but you know—ok I won’t even get into that the point is I just don’t really like her that much even tho I don’t think she’s necessarily a bad person or anything you know

but to be fair I think she got better and I remember her being compelling in her return to the show

and like. I do like how the trend in this franchise is “smart little nerd librarian and badass lady guardian kicks ass” but I do wish that it turned around occasionally. we do get cassandra but like. more lady librarians

wow an air marshal? aren’t they rarely even on flights?

sorry im being nitpicky there for sure lmao. please delete the cinamasins ding my words probably summoned from your brain

I get why shoving him out was necessary but also Wow

Gjklhkjfgh imagine sitting next to some mumbling nerd the whole flight and then you see him fly past the windows

LFKGJDLKJDFG he brilliantly lowers our expectations then jumps without a chute! remarkable!

hilarious or commentary on men getting credit for womens’ competency? why not both

i really thought that she was going to be a lying liar the first time I watched this

ah naïve boy. “uh that’s against the law”

flynn’s greatest strength isn’t just his knowledge but his like. breadth of different topics, just like, passion for learning of any time, and like. the ability to not just know a lot of different things but cross-reference and apply them to each other and use them in tandem to understand a greater whole

and we love that for him!

ah flynn therapizing himself lmao

why would she take him going “this bridge is rotting and physically cant support our weight” as a challenge

or him being cowardly like THE STRUCTURAL SUPPORTS ARE ROTTING

YEAH WHAT DID YOU EXPECT OF COURSE HE FUCKING FELL

ok i lied i like nicole i just don’t love their dynamic

i get what they’re going for i just. not my thing

like with eve there was still a clear mutual respect? i guess? idk

maybe it’s just because i’m more sensitive to mean banter? i don’t like mean banter, even when it’s like, def 100 percent well meaning and not mean spirited and no one is actually offended or hurt

although despite not liking their Thing I do a) think it’s very cute how he looks at her, b) their vibe as they start to get to know each other is Better, c) the end of the movie scene where she rides in for maximum drama? now that was good shit.

oh he’s sherlocking her in a shy attempt to impress her but it’s only going to piss her off, right?

oh she’s just sherlocking him back

KSGFJLDKFGJ LMAO “nerd” and that’s it. fair

Cutting Off His Head damn that’s hardcore

hmmmm cringe,

and more cringe

and cringe.

her waking up to him gone right after telling that story about waking up to her librarian gone and then killed—oof

love the serpent brotherhood lady being like wow!! he’s SO COMPETENT!! (cuts to him screaming)

do these ancient traps just have infinite arrows?

also I do love the whole waltzing across trope what can I say im a sucker

DFLKGLDKFGJLDKJG fucking CHUCKS SOMETHING AT IT and immediately where he would be standing is crushed by a huge rock amazing

he literally just chucked a rock at it and it fell over

ah the classic “let the hero get it for us” move

oh there he is! rip

why does he look like macpherson

not really but kind of

also contrast between the lady always being like “omg the librarian is so smart” and him assuming nicole is the one who did the smart thing

“your tears were perfect” how much more of an asshole can you get

They really could have played him as more sympathetic—“oh, we’re always around these powerful artifacts but we never use them for good! I had to do it, I was sick of sitting back and doing nothing” or like “all those years of danger and guarding powerful things and what good did it ever do me? what do I get for my service?” or anything but nah hes just like “mm power good babes. anyway I love sex and being mean”

to be fair flynn he was the librarian too—a real librarian? I mean yeah edward was corrupted and ultimately failed his duties but he had to have been qualified and actually got the job for a reason

flynn I know you think you sound badass but you really don’t

god not shangri-la again. everything the show did with that was. Bad. yikes

why is—god, I should really learn her name [checks notes] lana fangirling so much?

also following the lamia tradition of “serpent brotherhood second in command who is more interesting than the main evil white guy and also a pretty woc” huh

never got like “this is literally impossible” “well do it or I [generic bad guy threat]” like usually that means nothing lmao

LDFKGJLDKFJLDKFGJ ok first of all god is me? bitch?

second of all. me in english? on this fucking ancient very much not english thing? I mean I guess a) it might not be literal, even though he did say “m, e” by letters, b) it is a christian myth so maybe planted later??? but like?????

dude. giving the super powerful artifact to your prisoner? bad idea. if you’re worried about booby traps have a minion do it.

oh yes your gun is so scary in the face of a temple collapsing

why do heroes always think the whatever is safer with them than the temple that’s guarded it for a thousand years

I get it’s been discovered but like. fuck. still

You Are Going To Crash This Helicopter

SLKGJ HORRIBLE HIGH VELOCITY PIE OF DEATH

flynn and judson…..wholesome

oh here comes more forced romance

just let them be friends who grow to mutually respect each other blease

it is very fucking funny that the mom is like ….. oh my god…. oh my god,,, a WOMAN AJUST ANSEWREDM Y SDONGS PHONE?????????OH MY GOFD?????

he is bisexual. but it’s good he’s getting out

ah floofy hair

cahooting,

Yes You Do Need Clothes

that’s a teleporter sir

god eddie wild is such a boring fucking villain and person

and his plan SUCKS

also the serpent brotherhood (why BROTHERhood?) sucks and hates the library why would they just let this guy, a librarian, literally be their new leader

wow he just stabbed a guy on his OWN TEAM for no reason

great going asshole

love how lana is just like…. O-O

we stan lana. she hasn’t done much and she’s technically a bad guy i just love her

“at last we can be one” what does that even mean

why would lana or any of them want to help him he just killed one of their own for no reason hes clearly tripping on power and leaving yall to die

lfkgjdlkfgj flynn dodging so hard while the others is fight and then PUNCHING A GUY

dfglkjdflgkj wait it’s the professor dude why is that so funny

is he WITH THEM??? I think I just missed something

hold on a sec

yeah I think he just appears??? And flynn just fucking broke his nose iconic

wait so was he with them or is he just here going WHY ARE THERE RANDOM PEOPLE IN MY PYRAMID????????????

oh right he built the—ok I got it

Wait what

I mean I did think lana was neat and she seemed impressed with flynn but what shes just like, in love with him now? that makes zero fucking sense why would she want them to Be Together

Is it just so there can be a catfight between the two hot chicks?

seriously tho? morally pure blonde blue eyed girl versus Evil Asian Chick? really?

for the record NOT THAT IT MATTERS but lana is way cuter im just saying

ah badass judson

THE COMEDY OF THE CAPSTONE CRUSHING HIM DLFKGJDLKFGJ

oh………….pulling out excalibur…. predicable but so good

oh the painting….the very Parenty way of revealing it…… wholesome

oh did NOT like that transition

oh here comes the badass fucking entrance with his gf busting in on his mom trying to set him up with girls

HER ENTRANCE IS SO UNNECESSARAILY DRAMATIC I LOVE THEM

I just love the mom’s face ldfkgjldfkgjdlkfgjdlkfjgd shes like WHAT THEGUFVCJK

again I don’t love the vibes of “oh my weird loser son is finally normal!” but to be fair im exaggerating a bit from just facial expressions it’s just. sigh

but ngl the vindication of him being able to be like. yeah that’s right im a badass now and my gf is cool as fuck is still good

him and nicole do have not terrible vibes at the end but if I remember correctly that mission (time travelling ninjas and hg wells’s time machine) is the one that separated them so rip I guess

overall: good movie! as cringe as I remember but I still love flynn so much

[dereksmcgrath]

In order to talk about this episode, we have to talk about how manga publishing and anime production does (and does not) work.

And before we can get into this episode, and its originating storyline that comes not only from the My Hero Academia manga but also its spinoff Vigilantes, I have to talk about three things:

The challenges of adapting more than one manga series.

An imaginary Vigilantes co-production (an “Imagine If,” to steal a phrase from a writer better than I) between Studio BONES and Studio Trigger.

But first, another franchise Studio BONES adapted the same year as MHA: Bungo Stray Dogs.

(Bear with me–this is all going somewhere.)

“More of a Hero Than Anyone,” My Hero Academia Episode 107 (Season 5, Episode 19)

An adaptation of Chapters 253, 254, and 255 of the manga, by Kohei Horikoshi, inspired by My Hero Academia: Vigilantes, Chapters 59 to 65 by Hideyuki Furuhashi and Betten Court. All translated by Caleb Cook with lettering by John Hunt and available from Viz.

My Hero Academia is available to stream on Crunchyroll and Funimation.

Spoilers up to the My Hero Academia Chapter 324, Vigilantes Chapter 108, and the film World Heroes’ Mission.

There are also spoilers for Bungo Stray Dogs and Gurren Lagann.

Created by writer Kakfa Asagiri and illustrator Sango Harukawa, with additional spinoffs illustrated by Kanai Neko, Ganjii, Oyoyo, and Shiwasu Hoshikawa, Bungo Stray Dogs is about a world where characters, who happen to have the names of real-life authors of Japanese and other literature, also happen to have superpowers based on the titles of works by those same famous authors. For example, Herman Melville can summon the giant battle fortress Moby-Dick, Nikolai Gogol can transport items through his overcoat, and Motojiro Kajii has the ability “Lemonade,” which prevents him from being harmed by bombs shaped like lemons.

(…Bungo Stray Dogs is weird. The first anime doesn’t even have dogs in it.)

Studio BONES premiered an animated adaptation of Bungo Stray Dogs in 2016, the same year the studio premiered the MHA anime. What makes Bungo unique compared to some other anime is that each season adapted from not only the manga but one of the franchise’s light novels as well. While some of the light novels take place concurrent to the manga, most take place in the past–which made Season 1 awkward, re-setting some events from the Azure Messenger Arc in the present and hampering some characterization for what was supposed to be the very first meeting of the characters Osamu Dazai and Doppo Kunikida.

The next light novels adapted for the Bungo anime all take place in the past, with Season 2 giving what I think is the best of the adaptations, The Dark Age, as we learn more about Dazai’s time with the Port Mafia and his relationship with fellow mafioso Sakunosuke Oda. This arc set a high standard that I don’t think the next light novel adaptations have reached, as it not only fleshes out the characters and builds the world, but it also has two important accomplishments. First, on its own, you could watch the entire four-episode arc as its own movie. While some details will gain more significance if you watched the first season, and will become more important as you watch the rest of the series or read the manga and light novels, by itself, The Dark Age is a thrilling narrative of intrigue, deception, betrayal, and heartache. Second, thematically, The Dark Age ties in very well to the rest of Season 2. Some of it is cheap shorthand: the Lupin Bar matchstick container becomes a visual indicator for Dazai helping Atsushi Nakajima save an ally when Dazai couldn’t. But even as cheap as that may seem, it enhances the overall season, giving Dazai more to do in a story where he is otherwise on the sidelines and playing everyone like chess pieces. Plus, you kind of needed to see The Dark Age to understand who Ango Sakaguchi is in Season 2 and why Dazai hates him.

Season 3 gave me high hopes for where the next light novel adaptation could go. This season focuses on a third party attempting to destroy Dazai and Atsushi’s organization, the Armed Detective Agency, along with the Port Mafia. When Agency founder Yukichi Fukuzawa is poisoned, we see the usually lighthearted and arrogant Ranpo Edogawa become momentarily silent and devastated by Fukuzawa’s hospital bed. I blame myself for reading theories online that this moment would lead the season to do a flashback arc to one of the light novels, one that shows the origins of the Agency, how Fukuzawa first met young Ranpo, and explains what that cat was doing all throughout The Dark Age and Season 3.

Instead, as soon as I started Season 3 and saw the premiere was beginning with a lengthy adaptation of a light novel centered around Dazai and his former Mafia teammate Chuuya Nakahara, my heart sank. Nothing about that story thematically tied into the overall season as well as would Ranpo and Fukuzawa’s light novel, a story that reveals how much Ranpo has lost in his life and why he clings onto Fukuzawa for approval and why the dissolution of the Agency would not only deprive him of family and friends but also the very meaning to his existence. That is a heavy story to tell, one that would make the audience better appreciate the lengths the Agency goes to for Fukuzawa. By comparison, there is next to nothing about Chuuya’s back story that accomplishes the same. If anything, all that light novel adaptation tells us is that Dazai and Chuuya’s partnership mirrors that of Atsushi and the Mafioso Ryunosuke Akutagawa–and that detail was already established well enough in Season 2, so we’re just retreading the same old material.

Adapting Chuuya’s story is like explaining Aizawa’s back story: as I’ll explain in the moment, all you really learn in either case is why Chuuya hates Dazai and why Aizawa is a lone wolf–and it’s the reasons you already see in the present day, Chuuya hates Dazai because he’s annoying, and Aizawa has always been a loner, end of discussion. The choice to give these two characters the spotlight doesn’t really do anything new for the audience. I’ll say more about Aizawa later, but for now, I’ll say, nothing against Chuuya as a character, but the decision to adapt his light novel seemed very much like a marketing strategy by manga/light novel publisher Kadokawa and Studio BONES: Dazai and Chuuya’s relationship is popular with fans, there’s a lot of back story to mine, and the light novel that gave us this anime adaptation already set up a sequel that itself could serve as a Season 4 adaptation or even a feature film.

(Honestly, that Chuuya sequel novel in Bungo is more entertaining: there’s a cyborg named Adam Frankenstein. Re-read that sentence: a cyborg named Adam Frankenstein, who treats Chuuya like a little kid, offering him candy because he read that young people like candy and the serotonin from sugar can help with dealing with times of stress. Chuuya’s babysitter is Frankenstein: it’s so absurd that it just works.)

So, why am I talking about Bungo Stray Dogs instead of the other anime Studio BONES makes, My Hero Academia? Because I’m seeing a set of mistakes and Band-Aids repeat themselves all over again.

I profess ignorance about how the anime industry works: there are better people than I who can speak to it. As far as I can gather, just by looking at the evidence in that industry, and the evidence of just about any industry, the goal is to make money. I don’t think the goal to make an anime is necessarily to get people to watch it, especially now that streaming makes the cost of entry very low or even free if you wait long enough for Crunchyroll and Funimation to put it up with commercials. I don’t think it’s to get you to buy the manga: even if you get hooked like I am to read ahead to see what happens next, why read something you just watched? Instead, I think the goal is to buy merchandise, like how musical groups have switched from record deals to selling individual songs online and getting merch sold at concerts (pre-COVID). The conundrum for the anime and manga industries are not dissimilar from those in comic book publishing in the United States: DC and Marvel can have all the crossover events in the comics that they want, but those don’t always get someone who to read a new series just because Spider-Man or Wolverine pop up in it. I have not looked at sales for Vigilantes, so I don’t know whether Aizawa, Midnight, and All Might popping up in there boosts its sales. Rather, the comics are testing grounds for what works. Marvel uses its comics to test what can work in films and streaming, where money now is, while maybe Vigilantes was testing the Oboro story to see if there was something there to put into the anime. Sure enough, the fan art out there for Oboro has increased since the episode, merchandise can’t be far behind.

But let’s move on to actually looking at the episode itself. “More of a Hero Than Anyone” centers on Aizawa and Present Mic being brought to the prison Tartarus to interrogate captured League of Villains member Kurogiri. As I have complained for most of this season, BONES has made confusing choices regarding which chapters of the MHA manga it is adapting first: this story comes from manga chapters that were the last before the big Pro Heroes vs Paranormal Liberation Front Arc, and we haven’t even gotten to the Meta Liberation Army Arc yet. True, this episode ends in a way to set all of that up, showing us Shigaraki getting his power boost, but it has been a befuddling choice of what to adapt first. Making matters more confusing is that, while this episode introduces Aizawa and Present Mic’s classmate Shirakumo, someone alluded to during Shinso’s arc this season, that story doesn’t really originate in the main manga: it started in an MHA spinoff.

The manga My Hero Academia: Vigilantes is to My Hero Academia like the Bungo Stray Dogs light novels are to its main manga: it is largely a prequel that fills in back story for major characters and some worldbuilding details while telling its own story with its own protagonist and plot. Chapters 59 to 65 are the first major departure for the series, as it shifts from the usual protagonist to a plot about Aizawa, showing his time as a UA student and setting up why he ended up returning to UA as a teacher.

The first time I read Aizawa’s arc in Vigilantes, I hated it: it is a cynical attempt at giving us an origin story to explain how Aizawa got to be the way he is–without actually showing us anything we could not have figured out ourselves. It tries to set up this idea that, if Shirakumo had not died, Aizawa would not have been the lone wolf.

That idea butts up against two details. First, we already see Aizawa keeps up the lone wolf appearance anyway in the present, so imagining an alternative timeline doesn’t make sense, especially when, in its own flashback arc, Aizawa was already a lone wolf–that was his entire dynamic with Mic, Skirakumo, even Midnight, so it’s less that Shirakumo’s death made him this way when he was always this way. Hell, this was a gag in the supplementary material of the manga that got adapted into the anime, when Mic had to come up with a Pro Hero name for Aizawa because he was that checked out–and, again, that was before Shirakumo died.

Second, we know Aizawa’s lone wolf persona is just that, a front he puts up that belies his pragmatic willingness to work with others. Just because he is annoyed by the antics of friends like mic and Skirakumo, just because he bristles at Midnight trying to rope him into teaching at UA throughout most of Vigilantes, and just because he is overly serious when dealing with his students or with newbie heroes like Vigilantes’s protagonist the Crawler, none of that ignores that, despite everything, Aizawa, maybe more than anyone else, fulfills the collaborative spirit of Pro Hero work that other characters do not.

Aizawa’s strengths as a teacher center around his understanding that people have to work together. That detail fails when remembering he is still the one who is not properly reprimanding Bakugo to stop being a bullying, violent dick to Izuku. (Seriously, this episode is yet another moment of him being awful: how many times in the anime alone has he kicked the shit out of Izuku for no reason, as if any reason would justify it?) But otherwise, Aizawa understands how to work with others, and that has set him apart for so long from other prominent Pro Heroes. All Might doesn’t really collaborate–he’s been trying to hold up the peace of the world on his own. Endeavor may run an agency with sidekicks that enhance his abilities, but as seen in the Endeavor Agency Arc he would rather rush ahead to save the day on his own, in this pathetic desire to catch up to All Might. Aizawa, though, knows his limitations and is willing to work with anyone else to help him achieve his goals, something we have seen him learn to embrace more and more, whether hanging back to be the face in front of the camera to distract the League while the other Heroes rescue Bakugo, or when he accepted Izuku joining on the Shie Hassaikai mission. And you can pick up on all of this from just reading the main manga–so why bother reading Vigilantes if all it’s going to tell you is,”Aizawa’s friend died and that’s why he’s sad”? Even little details get lost in the shuffle: while I should appreciate Aizawa bringing up the cat Oboro rescued, that’s such a big part of the Vigilantes plot that it feels like a nod to the story rather than getting fully into it. (Trivia: That cat, Sushi, is adopted by Midnight. Enjoy feeling awful that Sushi may have passed away by now or is going to be without an owner when Midnight dies.)

I had thought I could put that frustration with that Vigilantes arc behind me. Then the main manga revealed Shirakumo’s corpse was used to create Kurogiri–and I rage quitted. Okay, that’s exaggerating: I didn’t stop reading the manga, but I did take a long pause in keeping up on it, seeing as the next arc got to be so bloody and depressing that, on top of enough real-world concerns, that wasn’t the kind of escapist reading I was looking for. I needed some time to sit back and process how annoying this revelation was. That means, for all of Vigilantes, this detail, that Kurogiri was Shirakumo all along, was just waiting to be revealed. To again repeat the SpongeBob meme I used last week, this series used me for plot contrivances.

(Vigilantes also seems like one long troll. After the main manga shows the Hood Nomu used to be an underground fighter, he gets a backstory in Vigilantes. And Vigilantes give you the last bit of Midnight you’re going to get before she’s killed off–which, now that I think about it, makes her exclusion from this episode even worse: she was friends with Shirakumo, too, so bring her into this episode before we fridge her!)

It doesn’t help how ignorant I feel for not realizing this sooner: Skirakumo’s name and abilities are the white-and-black opposite of Kurogiri’s. The cover to a collected volume of Vigilantes made that all the clearer. But if that’s the case, why wasn’t this hinted at when Aizawa and Kurogiri first encountered each other way back in the USJ Arc? I know it’s a lot to expect the audience to track throughout the series, and I appreciate the story trying to explain that away by Aizawa asking the same question I have, before someone tells him that maybe Kurogiri’s reprogramming made Oboro’s personality disappear. But Horikoshi’s creation of Shirakumo seems more like a late addition rather than something always there since the earliest chapters. And that’s fine–it’s just disappointing compared to other comics creators like Oda who sets stuff up years in advance before payoff in One Piece. And it’s more disappointing it didn’t come up in the anime adaptation: I would have hoped, if Horikoshi had that idea so early, he would have told BONES so they could throw in a hint early in that fight. I don’t know, maybe Aizawa has a flashback to the last words Shirakumo told him and that motivates him to use his Quirk one last time to save Tsuyu and Izuku, or maybe Kurogiri pauses before Aizawa just long enough that you think that’s a weird choice, then upon rewatch now you realize, “Oh, shit, Kurogiri was remembering his classmate and trying to process that information!”

It doesn’t help that the Shirakumo story doesn’t feel like something Studio BONES should handle. Granted, that story is from Vigilantes, not the main manga, so I anticipated BONES would not adapt it here–even as I held out hope for an OVA or, as I hinted earlier, something akin to Bungo Stray Dogs: start the season with this three- to four-episode adaptation of Aizawa’s back story to introduce this season. I’ll say more about why placing that story at the beginning of the season in a moment, but there was another reason why I didn’t think this was a Studio BONES story: it always felt like a story suited for Trigger, the studio behind Kill La Kill, Little Witch Academia, and more, built by people from Gainax of Evangelion and Gurren Lagann fame.

The Shirakumo arc in the Vigilantes manga felt like a visual love letter by Shueisha to Trigger saying, “Please adapt this!” Betten Court’s illustrations for Vigilantes emphasize diagonals, even when adapting MHA characters originally designed by Horikoshi, as well as facial expressions with sharp lines rather than curves, all visually reminiscent of some Trigger and even Gainax anime. Characters’ facial expressions look more like Panty and Stocking than Studio BONES. Aizawa’s final fight in the arc is against a stories-tall behemoth with laser powers that, if not visually, then narratively invokes similar fights in Gurren Lagann, Gridman, and Evangelion. Speaking of Gurren Lagann, in this arc Midnight is sporting Kamina’s shades, and Skirakumo’s last words to Aizawa come through an intercom, after he supposedly died, similar to Kamina’s death. Also, Midnight is running around in a nudist beach outfit from Kill La Kill–so, yeah, the Trigger allusions are that in your face, in all senses of that phrase. Again, I’m not saying I personally would like Trigger to adapt MHA: it’d be different, they are not the first studio I would go with or one whose output I would like, given a lot I don’t like about their output, but when you look at the manga-based evidence, going in that direction makes sense.

I don’t know what plans Shueisha, Toho, and BONES had for this episode, but the style of it already feels so different and off-kilter anyway, due to Aizawa’s nostalgia, that I can’t help but think that someone at some point did have an idea to go with a different studio to animate it, or at least a different approach. I appreciate how much they changed Chapter 254’s opening, re-staging Oboro’s agency talk to be outdoors instead of a walk-and-talk scene as in the manga. Even if I can’t quite say the street walking and outdoor sitting under a bright sky is indicative of Trigger exactly–if anything, the fixation on centering the scenes Wes Anderson-style (the hallway walking in Tartarus, Aizawa and Mic and Oboro hanging out under the blue sky) looks more like something out of Shaft or BONES’s Bungo Stray Dogs–that difference tells me there was something more ambitious in mind than what we ultimately got. It’s the same when we get Kurogiri’s point of view as Aizawa and Present Mic get through to Oboro.

Imagine how gutsy it would be to start Season 5 with an entire Oboro flashback arc. Imagine moving forward in time to this moment of Aizawa and Present Mic interviewing Kurogiri, disorienting the audience asking why we’re skipping the Classes 1A and 1B fights, the League of Villains vs the Meta Liberation Army Arc, and the Endeavor Agency Arc, to show this moment that was supposed to come later. Imagine how gutsy it would be to start with Aizawa and Present Mic learning all of this at Tartarus, setting up the finale for this season, the Pro Heroes versus the Paranormal Liberation Front–then not actually showing that fight start until next season. Why do all of that? Because, if you’re going to delay the LOV vs MLA Arc for that long, you might as well start your season assuring the audience that, no, we have not forgotten the Villains, they will be relevant this season–because, since Aizawa and Present Mic’s high school years, they have been the Big Bads all along and were toying with these two for so long. Imagine how gutsy all of that would be.

Instead, all of that is reduced to just one episode. It’s all so cliche. Aizawa points out, towards the beginning, that this power of friendship trope won’t work–then it does work, negating the entire point of calling it cliche. (Well, it does work, for now: given often we’re told rather than shown how All For One is a chessmaster, it wouldn’t surprise me if he let Kurogiri spill the beans like this knowing it would help him break out of prison later when the Pro Heroes foolishly take on the PLF all at once with little back up plan.) If we had had the full story of Oboro, like did readers of Vigilantes, the slow revelation that Nomus are hardly puppets but, more than that, are reanimated Frankenstein’s monsters capable of agency and personalities, would make this hurt more. We would have seen Oboro, we would have been as horrified as Aizawa and Mic are to learn he was resurrected–but, instead, it is already upon our first meeting with Oboro that suddenly we learn he is also Kurogiri, and it’s just too fast.

How disappointing, but sadly realistic.

It feels like BONES has made a lot of safe choices this season, and while that helps sustain the studio during the unpredictable times of COVID and does what works already for MHA, it doesn’t feel very adventurous. It makes me wonder whether BONES should have put in that time improving Season 5 than trying to make another MHA film. I have not seen World Heroes’ Mission, and while I’ll reserve my review of it until I see it, and will limit as many spoilers as I can, based on just the plot summary I have read, I fail to see how putting in the budget on that film makes sense in terms of narratives, even as I understand how it makes sense in terms of increasing an audience and getting box office sales (in a pre-COVID model, of course).

But speaking of COVID, yeah, I do see why World Heroes’ Mission is necessary right now: it is a globe-trekking film, from what I read it includes beautiful scenery as characters travel vast distances–it is a film needed right now when many of us are still social distancing and still staying at home in the hope that our contributions limit the spread of this deadly virus. (Get vaccinated, mask up, stay at home when possible, and stop being a jerk, people.) Still, I can’t say I’m not disappointed that, with a season whose animation has depended a lot on flashbacks, even if that makes sense given how much ground to cover and how far along the story has come over more than 100 episodes, it is disappointing to not get something more stylistically out-there.

I’m also not saying it’s realistic that Trigger would ever animate this arc. I don’t even necessarily want them to: I find most of their productions to be so light on story while heavy on themes, message, and the animation that, while I appreciate people getting into how visually stunning the artwork is, I find the story so empty that I just can’t get into it. And I’m not expecting Shueisha, Toho, or Studio BONES to cut some kind of deal with Trigger to give them the rights to adapt part or all of Vigilantes: Trigger is animating Star Wars stuff next, that’s a wider market than My Hero Academia (regardless how many Star Wars references Horikoshi puts into his series).

I know I’m being very critical of the production choices behind the episode. Granted, the recap to the last episode was needless–and seems like it’s just there to remind us that we’re somehow supposed to see Aizawa, Mic, and Oboro as analogous to Izuku, Bakugo, and Todoroki–which does not work at all. And somehow BONES made the unfunny All Might part from the manga even longer and even less funny: we already got comedic relief off Iida to accent how much a contrast there is to the Aizawa stuff, and that has a more personal connection as he is Aizawa’s student, while All Might’s Dad Joke is as painful a pun as it looked to be for the students.

Otherwise, I thought the episode was good, just not meeting expectations I set that are not fair. Present Mic’s extended pause, then the long pause before Aizawa has to hold back from crying, when realizing Kurogiri’s concern for Shigaraki means he is indeed Oboro, is more powerful than it was in the manga. Aizawa letting loose the tears at the end while claiming he has dry eyes is very much Roy Mustang complaining about the rain. I do think the ambition for the storyboarding hints at something bigger they had planned, and largely the animation and tension, especially trying to reach Oboro, did work. Wrapping up this episode showing that Kurogiri was just the start of an experiment that would lead to Shigaraki’s transformation only creates a more foreboding tone.

Furthermore, the voice direction and acting in the English dub was very good. Ever since David Trosko replaced Sonny Strait as Present Mic, he has upheld all that works in the character, and while I feared that kind of loud acting would disrupt any pathos for this episode, it worked incredibly well, putting up so much bluster that shows how powerless he feels facing this madness and how this is as heartwrenching for him as it is for Aizawa. I especially appreciate, in the English dub, how much Oboro sounds like Izuku: while the series has never made Aizawa see a bit of Oboro in Izuku, that casting lends a new way of interpreting why Aizawa sticks with that masochist after everything he lost when Oboro died.

(You know that if things had worked out differently, Vic Mignogna would’ve ended up cast as Oboro, given his roles already as the dead friend of the hard-ass teacher in Naruto, and the presumed dead Sabo in One Piece, and his dynamic acting against Kurogiri’s Chuck Huber in other productions).

So that takes care of all the stuff about Aizawa: what about his students? I don’t just mean the class he failed–which, no, that detail doesn’t really work for me, that Aizawa failed a class as we were told upon his initial introduction, and now we reveal it was an empty threat since, while that is on their record, it was to reset matters with his class, not so they would take him seriously but so that they would value their lives. That’s not how that works. I don’t pretend that students, myself included, took our education so seriously that a failing grade or a career setup felt awful–but not the same kind of life-threatening that is literally dying. A poor mark on your report card does not typically result in that kind of same mortal fear, and I hate this story for trying to compare the two, especially when it positions teachers like us to have a fatal power we don’t have: we’re not the Grim Reaper, this isn’t Soul Eater, this is real freaking life. I can’t imagine any good teacher wanting that kind of power to think they are the difference between life and death. We don’t want our students to think these are mortal matters–especially right now, in this context, where I don’t think it’s at all appropriate to re-start in-person teaching and learning (without masks and without social distancing or remote learning opportunities) at a time when not enough of us are vaccinated and the threat of COVID remains too dangerous even when vaccinated. This takes me out of the story. Granted, it’s not the rest of this story is somehow like real life: this is a school where Nezu somehow has a ton of money, so applying real-world matters to a work of fiction is foolish. The only bar this story needs to clear is believability, and it’s not unbelievable that Nezu made that money and overlooked Aizawa’s behavior.

(It’s also why I wish Midnight was in this episode: she recruited Aizawa to UA as a teacher–it would be fascinating to hear her say she chose him for these reasons, that she knew the school needed a hard-ass like him.)

But like I said, I don’t just mean the class he failed: I mean his current students. Re-reading Chapter 253, I now understand why Iida doesn’t pop up in the third film: if he had his new desire to loosen up, then it would make a lot less sense seeing as he just came off a mission to save the world like Ochaco and his classmates did.

And that again leads to a paragraph of me repeating that I don’t give Ochaco enough attention. I promise, I will say more about where her character stands in this series at some point, if not when talking about Chapter 324 tomorrow. But even as this story keeps insisting she is important, it feels like it’s hanging her up like that All Might toy from Izuku. I appreciate putting in the budget to animate her dive-and-hide on Izuku’s gift, something not as obvious or visually impressive in the manga–but we couldn’t have put that budget into doing something more creative with the Aizawa story? Building her characterization around Izuku, at this point in the anime, remains frustrating–until the manga gives that a good payoff and seems to be sticking the landing on it. That’s one of the challenges of reviewing the manga as it goes on, and why reviewing the anime is in some ways easier: I can see where the pieces fit in and what is being set up. It doesn’t change that it’s annoying right now in this moment, but it fits in the overall scheme of her and Izuku’s story. But When it comes to how Toga is going to tie into this, I’m less convinced, but we’ll get to that in the next few episodes and in tomorrow’s manga review.

Oh, and Bakugo remains the worst. I’m so grateful he is tolerable in the manga right now, because the fact that he was getting away with this nonsense up to Chapter 253 is an indictment against teachers like Aizawa and All Might.

I apologize for how much this post seemed like a long college lecture (a college instructor leturing–shocking), or a Rachel Maddow monologue–only far less repetitive than Maddow’s condescending “I’m going to repeat the same point five times and treat you like you haven’t been paying attention”–and far less financially profitable. This is basically a joke I told a friend after posting last week’s review:

“Show me you’re an academic without telling me you’re an academic.”

“I wrote nine pages reviewing an episode without actually reviewing the episode."

[paradiselostbythedashboardlight]

Quarantine, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Wrote 430,943 Words of Prose in a Year

As we are coming up terrifyingly fast on a full year of quarantine with no end to the pandemic yet in sight for most people, I’ve been taking some time to reflect on the last year of my existence in a state that most people now refer to as quarantine. Since March of 2020, I, like most other sane people in my country, have stopped traveling, going to stores, seeing all but a limited group of other humans, and begun having recurring nightmares about being in crowds without a piece of cloth over my nose and mouth.

Suffice to say, it has been a bit stressful.

The other thing that I have done since COVID-19 began rapidly spreading across the globe last year is write over 430,943 words of fiction. 

The number seems insane to me still. That is (approximately) one Gone With The Wind, one entire Lord of the Rings series, or the first four Harry Potter books. That is still sadly not yet War and Peace (but who knows… the pandemic isn’t over yet).

So now that I am looking back, I find myself with one question: how did this happen? Why did I do this? What does this mean about my life this year?

Since apparently I answer best by writing a lot, let’s begin at the beginning. Let me tell you a story. I’ll keep it short, I swear.

Part 1: Blast From the Past

In March of 2020, I was still in the midst of an academic semester. There was a long academic document to write and a class to teach. However, as quarantine abruptly robbed me of most of my usual commitments, I was suddenly thrust into the position of having more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. Consequently, I decided to break out the Nintendo Switch I’d gotten for Christmas and revive a childhood interest in video games.

And boy did I. I played the games I owned for all they were worth. I played them during the evenings when I had no social engagements to attend. I played them during the Zoom meetings I was already struggling to pay attention to. By the end of March, I had finished one game, and it had set the wheels turning in my brain.

Here’s a fact about me: I don’t usually tend to write or read a lot of fanfiction about things that I consider really really good. Basically, fanfiction for me has always been an impulse born from incompletion or imperfection. I see no need to add to a perfect story (although I happily consume and create fanart). But for something enjoyable and yet slightly unsatisfying? That’s fanfic territory, bud.

So by April, I had developed a sort of epic fanfiction for this video game I was playing. It was one of those magnum opus kind of ideas, a grand retelling of the story with a huge sprawling plot and Themes (™). 

At first, it was merely a thought experiment that lived only in my head, a sort of entertainment to ponder in the hours before falling asleep. What changed? Well, a friend of mine decided to also write a fanfiction on the same video game and she kindly consented to let me read it.

Suddenly, I was ravenously hungry to read and to write and to share and to consume. I wrote a hundred thousand words of this fanfic in April and into early May, sending each chapter to my friend and being spurred onward by her kind comments. 

The fic became a gargantuan endeavor full of strange little challenges I set for myself. It was a canon-divergence, requiring plotting, worldbuilding, a darker and grimer tone. For some reason, I decided to write each chapter from a different character’s perspective, making the final product into a series of essentially short story character studies which together formed a plot.

By the end of May, the story was published for the world to see. It was well-received, although not particularly popular by fandom standards. And that was the end. I had gotten out my pandemic crazies, the semester was over and now I could move on. I had made my peace with the source material, plumbing all of the little details that I wanted to examine and creating a narrative that I found satisfying.

It was over.

Part 2: Summer Lovin?

Except that it wasn’t.

Confession: as I had been posting my giant fanfiction, I had also begun to explore the fan community itself, mostly curious to see some nice art and gather a bit of demographic info about what was popular within the community. As a result, I found a fanfic recommendations page. Among the recommendations was one author who kept popping up and i finally decided to give the fic a read.

Woah. It was good. Like, really good. Like, professional quality writing and themes that seemed designed to appeal to me. I devoured everything that the creator had posted in a week and then subscribed to eagerly wait for more.

As June rolled around, I realized that I had a problem on my hands. My great big gen masterpiece was finished, but this author had gotten me hooked on something else, something with a nefarious reputation online: shipping.

The term du jour for this seems to be “brain worms” so let’s just say that reading other fanworks had given me some brain worms. Inspired this time not just by the source material of the game, but now the fan community itself, my mind began to develop another idea.

I wrote the fic, about 11k, in a single afternoon of frantic writing. When I finished it, I knew it was one of my strongest pieces. It had just come together, a combination of all the thought that I’d been brewing up and a stylistic execution that just worked with the story I wanted to tell.

I posted it on a new account. Shipping seemed vaguely shameful to me still and my mom reads the other account.

To my surprise, the fic blew up. It got so much more attention than my long fic ever had. Even more significantly, a fan artist actually drew a gorgeous comic of the pivotal scene, completely out of the blue! I was essentially thunderstruck. Honestly, it was probably the first time in my life that I’d ever received so much positive reinforcement from a piece of writing.

While I’d written short stories for undergrad workshops, they’d never been particularly good and I’d never gotten particularly great feedback on them. I’d applied and been rejected by more MFAs and literary magazines than I could count. I’d pretty much resigned myself to writing for an audience of me and me alone (which I don’t mean to sound tragic about, writing for you is great and fun!)

But receiving so much support and praise and feeling like I’d made other people happy or sad or moved? There’s nothing better.

This makes my decision to write another fic for the ship sound vaguely cynical, the action of a person driven by an addiction to praise. I mean, no lie, aren’t we all a little addicted to approval?

But my next fic was another long one, an 80k passion project modern AU that I dreamed up while spending a slow summer alone with my books and only able to leave the house for long rambling walks in the woods. The premise was essentially about characters attending a five year college reunion, something that I myself had missed due to COVID in May of the same year. The fic quickly became a way for me to process thoughts on a lot of topics in my life ranging from relationships to politics to mental health to classical literature.

This fic was also received with far more attention than I was used to and, as a result, I finally joined the notorious Twitter dot com where I found people talking about my fic unprompted, eager to follow me and like my every random thought.

I can’t say that this process was not without its ups and downs. Fandom has changed, in many ways for the better, since my last engagement with it during the 2013 Supernatural days on Tumblr. While fan friendships are often idealized or demonized, they are pretty much like any other human friendship (okay, maybe a little bit more horny on main). There is potential for amazing connection as well as pettiness. But in a year where many people suddenly had no social spaces that were safe anymore, I’m glad that I found a new line of communication with the world.  

So I kept writing fics for the ship, producing a lot of work that I am genuinely proud of and making connections with other people who enjoyed it enough to leave a comment.

To conclude this section, I was in fandom again. While I had not seriously engaged with a fan community since around 2014, I was back with a vengeance. And I had discovered an important truth about what unlocked my ability to write more than I ever had before: community support.

Not simply the kudos and the views. It was the comments. The discourse. The discussion. To add and contribute my thoughts and ideas to a greater network of thoughts and ideas that fed off of one another.

Often I had seen people complain about there not being enough fanworks for particular media or characters. Now I knew the secret. The comments and the community created the works. If I commented on other people’s fics, the more likely they were to write more. I made a resolution I have tried to keep, to comment on any story that I legitimately enjoyed reading, even if I had no particularly intelligent thing to say about it.

Part 3: A Novel Idea

By late October, I had produced a considering oeuvre for my ship of choice and was enjoying slowing my pace as I planned a few future projects.

Remember, though, how I mentioned not having engaged with fandom for the past 5 years? Well, that didn’t mean I hadn’t been writing.

For the past 4 years, I have won NaNoWriMo and completed 4 novels of over 100k each in length. These projects have been massively fun and improved my confidence with executing stories at the scope that I desire.

And so in November 2020, I settled down to write another novel. November is always a sort of terrible time write a novel if you work in academia, but this year, I had more time than usual. I set out to write a comedy fantasy novel, something mostly lighthearted and full of hijinks in order to pretend away some of the quarantine blues (which by this point were well established in my psyche).

This year in particular, I was reminded that writing a novel is… harder than fanfic. That seems like a very obvious point, but I’d written novels before. Suddenly, though, I was realizing how much a novel requires you to set up the world and the characters, while fanfic can be pretty much all payoff all the time.

While the fanfic flowed in wild creative bursts of energy, the novel required diligence of another sort. I wrote 2,000 words every day for two months. It was a grind. Sometimes, it was a slog. 

And sometimes it just wasn't good. The thing about writing your own novels is that the first draft is way more likely to be not good. You’re balancing a lot and it’s easy to let a few balls that you have in the air drop for a chapter or two, with no recourse but to go back and edit later.

I finished the novel by writing a final speedrun of 6k on new years eve, ending my 2020 with another project under my belt. No one has read it. Not even I have reread it.

I’m still glad that I wrote it. I’ll write another one next year. No one will read that one either.

Sometimes, we write for ourselves and no external validation is necessary.

Part 4: Where are they now?

January of 2021 is somehow now behind me, which is terrifying. I’m still writing. Mostly fanfic, although occasionally I go doodle around with some original ideas that are more conceptual sketches for the next novel.

As for the fanfic, I think I still have a few more good ideas left in me, but  I will probably leave it behind before the year is out. That feels a little bittersweet, a sort of temporary burst of fun and friendship that I wonder if I’ll ever experience again.

Coming to the end of this reflection, I suppose I should make a summative statement about what it all means.

In the end, it might not mean a lot. There are some small takeaways. 

It turns out that encouragement makes you write more! Who knew? Also, more free time makes you write more! Wow!!!!

The point that I think this reflection exercise has shown me, the point that I think matters more than any other, is that writing is a way to process my thoughts. Even if it is through the lens of ridiculous video game fanfic or novels about sad wizards, my writing is my way to make sense of my own mind. 

And sharing that is special. If you share it with online strangers, with your family on Christmas Eve, with your close friend who has become even closer and dearer to you since she let you read her work, or just with your mom (the one personal legally required to read your damn novel if you want to share it). To share writing is to give someone a little peek at your beliefs about the world.

And right now? When we’re still isolated and bored and scared and in desperate need of distraction? Binge some TV, play Nintendo, read a book. Take in other people’s thoughts.

But put down your own somewhere as well. It’s a conversation.

And for once, it’s a conversation that doesn’t have to take place on fucking Zoom.