#i was obsessed with it for a solid ten years of my life

[mercy-burning]

…I Wonder

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader becomes a full-time nanny to three-year-old Benjamin, but what she doesn’t realize is just how hard the job will be— not because of the child, but rather her growing attraction to his father. Category: Mature (18+) Content: adults with age gap, drinking, dry humping, oral sex (both receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, “little girl” nickname, cum play, praise Word Count: 11k (idk how this keeps happening lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This fic is titled after and loosely inspired by "Pony" by Ashley Monroe. It's not required listening, but obviously I recommend the song. It's been a favorite of mine since I was a teenager obsessed with Dean Winchester, so... that probably explains a lot about why I am the way I am... LMAO anyway, enjoy <3 I had a blast writing this one!!

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ACT I: If I Had A Baby...

The first job I ever had also happened to be the best job I ever had. I was twenty years old, and I found an ad in the paper searching for a full-time nanny to a little boy. I didn't think anything of it, other than I desperately needed the money and I didn't mind babysitting. A few years out of school with no plans to attend college and no solid idea of what I wanted to do with my life, I wasn't sure if I'd even get hired. I was almost certain that no one would want a college-aged kid with no stable ambitions or previous job experience, but I was desperate. And CPR-certified.

It was a start. A shot in the dark.

By some miracle, Spencer Reid apparently was also desperate enough to be willing to take a chance on me.

He explained over the phone that he was away more than he'd like to be, and even if he tried to work from home, doing FBI work and raising a toddler alone at the same time was nearly impossible. I agreed to an interview, absolutely elated that I had a foot in the door and the bright beacon of hope for some sort of routine. Something to occupy my time and something to care about, to care for.

I was expecting the work to be... not hard, necessarily, but I wasn't naive enough to believe that taking care of a child was a walk in the park. There would surely be tantrums or bouts of "I miss Daddy!" or refusal to eat what I made him for lunch... I knew going into these interviews that I would be signing up for a major responsibility that meant a lot, not only to Spencer but also to his child. I had to prove that I could do my job and do it well. That alone was a challenge, but one I was willing to work with. I was ready for it.

What I wasn't ready for, however, was the betrayal I felt when my brain failed to warn me of the possibility that he was not only a single father, but a hot one.

The second I showed up at his door and he opened the barrier between us, I swear it felt like the sun swallowed me whole and burnt me to a crisp. He smiled brightly and introduced himself, and I was done for.

"You must be Y/N! Hi, I'm Doctor Spencer Reid."

Doctor? So he was smart, then, too. Perfect. The Trifecta of Peak Hotness had been achieved. That instantly made this new job ten-times harder than I anticipated, and I hadn't even started yet.

I wasn't sure I could go through with it at first, but the more we talked, the more I relaxed, and I felt sympathy for him. He was a genuinely kind and loving parent who wanted the best for his son, a three-year-old named Benjamin who loved dinosaurs and airplanes and Cheeto Puffs. I didn't get to meet him that day, since he was with his Aunt JJ (who, the way Spencer told it, was most likely feeding his Cheeto Puff addiction as we spoke), but if the interview went well, I'd get to meet him in the next week.

I mulled over my options and almost decided not to show up for the next interview; to call and tell him I'd changed my mind or something, but it pained me to even imagine the disappointment in his voice had he asked me why. For whatever reason, the vivid image of a toddler pouting and crying to his father because he had to leave, and that no one wanted to care for him burned itself into my soul until I relented and just took the job anyway.

It was fair to at least meet the kid first, right?

Benny was insanely talkative— but not really conversational. Most of the time I tried to keep up, but his mouth was moving a mile a minute, and the conversation always ended up falling flat on my end, so I pretty quickly decided to give up and enthusiastically let him carry it.

He had his father's brains as well. For hours that first meeting, he sat there and read me passages of aircraft encyclopedias, and in between two random sections I politely requested that we move on to dinosaurs (which were infinitely cooler). And then, in that adorable toddler voice that made it impossible to be irritated, he looked up at me with wide eyes and said, "I read all my dinosaur books last week. This week is for airplanes."

Spencer looked like he was going to divert the conversation entirely, perhaps suggest that Benny do something else while we talked some more, but who was I to interrupt the kid's routine and crush his dreams? If I was going to be his nanny, then I was going to have to make him like me. Right?

So, I nodded like I'd never considered it and encouraged him to keep going. To which he did, very happily.

Spencer seemed happy, too. He was always delighted to see Benny when he came home from work, but there was something about the way he relaxed and perked up all the same at my first interactions with his son that twisted my gut. What that man was filled with at the sight of me wasn't just joy, but hope, too, and regardless of where that joy and hope came from, it was an incredibly dangerous thing to notice as a young woman.

It was way too easy to fall into daydream territory. I was alert and attentive when watching Benny, of course, but the second Spencer walked in and completely knocked the wind out of me with that joy and relief radiating from his perfect smile, it was like a screw came loose in my brain and turned me into a feral, horny beast. And then I would return home, alone with my thoughts, and I couldn't divert them from the wild direction they took.

At first it was just your standard wet dream, a girl lusting over the older man she nannied for. It was purely pornographic and provided nothing but short-term relief until I saw him in person again, which frustrated me.

I almost thought about quitting, or saying I was looking into schooling so I could cut down on my hours, but...

That wasn't fair to Benny. He and I had actually formed a pretty stellar routine, if I do say so myself.

And every time I thought about leaving, I couldn't help but think about what I would tell him. Would I even tell him anything at all, or would Spencer just omit me from his life completely and give him an explanation in my place? Who would watch over him after I left? Someone old and mean who made him eat vegetables instead of Cheeto Puffs, and demanded he read to them about dinosaurs instead of airplanes, not giving him the option to develop his curiosity in whatever way he chose? Who would tuck him into bed on the nights his father was late or out of town, and would they sleep on the couch soundly and happily like I did?

I hated even thinking about it.

And then there was the first paycheck.

Truth be told, I hadn't even thought about the money, not after I met the boys and introduced them into my daily routine. I remembered Spencer telling me after my first day alone with Benny that he wouldn't get a paycheck to me until the start of the next month, and I was okay with it. Really, I was just focusing on trying not to drool for the entire conversation, but I digress.

Payment completely slipped my mind.

And then I showed up to do my job, and Benny was nowhere in sight.

"Where's the little guy?" I inquired, looking around and hearing nothing either. "He's usually waiting at the door for me like a dog."

Spencer laughed and concealed something behind his back. "He does really enjoy his nights with you... He's actually staying with JJ and her kids tonight, though. Our schedules opened up and she offered to take him for the night. I was going to call and tell you, but I wanted to give you this, anyway."

He handed me an envelope, folded over but not sealed. I took it with an, "Oh," unsure of what it was until I saw the corner of the check. It felt rude somehow to open it in front of him, but his presence was so overwhelming anyway, especially being alone with him, that I needed something to occupy my hands and my thoughts and just about everything else I had in my possession.

At first, I thought it was a joke. A prank. It was too good to be true; He was just messing with me and would hand me a fifty-dollar bill on my way out for my trouble. Surely, if not that, then it was a mistake.

I didn't know how long I'd stood there, staring at the paper with whatever expression was all over my face, but it must have been too long and too concerning because Spencer sounded worried when he asked, "Is there something wrong?"

I blinked for a moment, then finally had the courage to look him in the eye, my mouth completely dry. "You are not giving me five-thousand dollars right now."

"Well... No, technically, I'm giving you a check for five-thousand dollars. What you do with it and when is completely up to you, but... You deserve it. Y/N, you've been a Godsend, and Benny and I are lucky to have you around. Thank you. Very much."

I didn't even think about it. It was an insanely kind gesture, and I was in such a state of shock and gratitude and mind-numbing attraction to him in that moment that I leapt forward and flung my arms around his neck, tears stinging my eyes.

He hugged me back tightly and laughed, allowing me to cry my thanks into his shoulder as we nearly tumbled into the coffee table.

ACT II: If I Was A Lady...

The months flew by, and before I knew it, it was Benny's fourth birthday.

Spencer and his friends heavily involved me in the planning process, a gesture that surprised me, but that I obviously would never be thankful enough for. It's not like I hadn't ever known a loving family or anything, but they were all so warm and welcoming; it was like I'd been friends with them my whole life. My chest bloomed brightly with every laugh and every hug, and I don't think I could have been any happier. I felt like I belonged there.

It was a day, and night, I would never forget.

Everyone had left, and Benny was fast asleep in his bed. Spencer and I looked down at him with smiles so bright, if they'd actually radiated any light the poor boy would have woken up.

"Ah, the cake coma," I laughed quietly, Spencer guiding me out of the bedroom. I couldn't stop giggling even as we walked—Admittedly, I was a little buzzed on champagne. Still, Spencer laughed with me, and we sat down on the couch. I could tell he was exhausted, but happy.

"I still have to clean all of this up..." It was more of an amused I'll-do-it-tomorrow statement, but I had this drunken simmering need to please him so badly that I shook my head and hit his arm.

"No. That's my job. I'll take care of it, you just take your beautiful ass right to bed, you hear me?"

He raised an eyebrow but laughed at me anyway, clearly amused by my banter. "Maybe I shouldn't have allowed the underage drinking after all..."

"Oh, please. I'm not even drunk, just a little loose. Besides, I'll be twenty-one in a couple of months anyway."

"Mmmm."

I hadn't realized how much closer we'd gotten until just then, when he hummed and looked me over. I could feel his breath on my face, and our limbs were just barely touching. Suddenly it was like my entire body was numb, sizzling everywhere we touched, and the champagne had become a part of my bloodstream. The fizz was all I knew, all I was.

Spencer's eyes found mine, and they didn't look away. They pulled me in slowly. I was powerless to stop it, not that I'd ever want to...

In fact, I very eagerly melted into him the second our lips found each other. My head swam, my fingers started tingling, and I was very aware of every movement we made. I straddled his lap, and he welcomed me with open arms, pulling me flush against him as his tongue darted out swiftly to taste mine.

I couldn't believe it was actually happening. Every few seconds I kept thinking to myself, this feels like a dream... It has to be a dream... Between the pent-up attraction I'd been accumulating for him over the last few months and the alcohol that loosened me up and dissolved any ounce of common sense I possessed, I felt like I was in a different world entirely.

He hardened underneath me and my nerves went nuclear, instinctively forcing my body to roll over his. I ground my hips, aching to feel that sweet friction that I'd only felt once before with another man— so long ago and so unbelievably dull in comparison to the sensations I was feeling in Spencer's lap. I was only barely experienced with sex, but I was experienced enough to know that I didn't have anything to be nervous about; This man would take good care of me. I felt it in my bones.

The thought alone sent my body into overdrive. I whined and rolled my hips relentlessly, wishing I was completely bare and feeling him so deep inside me that his absence would leave me haunted. I wanted to feel him forever. I wanted him to ruin my life and claim me as his own, until there was absolutely nothing left of me.

His hands cradled my head reverently as he continued to kiss me deep and slow, raising his hips up to meet mine and aid in getting me off. The gentle tugs of his fingers through my hair and the warm hums of encouragement he offered to my mouth as I climbed higher and higher towards that precipice of pleasure made me weak. I felt so fragile in his arms, like I was meant to be right there, allowing him to guide me wherever. I would have done anything for him, anything so long as he kept holding me and making me sigh—making me glow.

"Fuck—I'm gonna come," I exclaimed in a broken whisper, breaking apart from his mouth to bury my face in his hair. He brought his hands down to my hips then, groaning as quietly as he could into my neck as he helped me rock back and forth across his lap.

It wasn't an earth-shattering intense orgasm by any means; there wasn't nearly enough stimulation for that. But I was so wet and aroused that even the low, quick and burning pleasure that shot through my core for a few seconds was enough to satisfy me. I wasn't in any position to complain.

That was, of course, until I reached down to touch Spencer's belt, and he pushed me away. Not aggressively, but his hands—which had been so gentle and welcoming just moments before—had gone rigid. Frozen and firm, like he'd just been scared half to death.

He scrambled out from my reach and put so much distance between us that I went cold. My name tumbled from his lips in a regretful sigh, and it stung.

"We can't ever do that again."

"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was still tingling all over, like my whole body had fallen numb and was now just warming up to the idea of having senses again.

"That was irresponsible. And I'm too old for you."

"M-hm," I agreed absentmindedly.

"You should go home."

"Okay."

"I'll call you a cab."

"Thank you."

I went home that night with a deep twist in my gut that wouldn't go away. The rejection hurt. It scared me, too, wondering if I'd still have a job when I woke up in the morning. Was that the last time I would ever see Spencer? And Benny? Had I really just screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me?

I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back on Spencer's couch, getting myself off in his lap and reveling in his embrace. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, hating myself for being so reckless, and even more so for not regretting it a single bit.

After I was finally able to get a solid couple of hours of sleep, I had a text message from Spencer waiting for me when I woke up.

I sincerely apologize for last night. The job is still yours, but I also understand if you don't want it anymore. Take a few days, whatever time you need, and let me know.

I was relieved, of course, but also deeply curious to know how we would keep things professional after something like that. I guess I was just mostly surprised that he was willing to, considering he seemed pretty rattled by it.

Still, If he was willing to try, then so was I.

I'm sorry, too. I wouldn't give up you and Benjamin for the world. All is well?

He texted back almost immediately; All is well.

It only clicked into place a few months later, once the initial shock of our "escapade" had faded away and we could return to business as normal. Because, really, the truth was we couldn't return to business as normal. We tried, but he never looked me in the eye for longer than a second at a time, he refused to touch me in any way, careful not to even brush my hand as he handed me my monthly check, and his small talk was even more painful than it had been previously.

Still, I continued to be Benny's nanny—and best friend, according to Auntie Penelope, much to her dismay. I still loved that kid more than anything in the world, and I still, unfortunately, wanted his father to kiss me again.

I was willing to let it all go, though, to admit that it was a silly stupid crush that could never come to anything and just deal with it like an adult, and then I had to overhear the motherfucker when he came home one night. I was resting on the couch, about to open my eyes when I heard the door open, but then I heard a voice that wasn't Spencer's. It was his friend, Luke.

Spencer cut him off then. "Quiet, please."

There was shuffling, keys being set down, and then a small laugh as they got closer to me. I didn't move a muscle, focusing only on my breathing. "Right. Don't wake the hot nanny, got it."

"She's right there," Spencer hissed, and I tried not to laugh. My insides flared to life as he added, "And I asked you not to bring that up..."

"Oh, come on, Reid. You have the hots for her; big deal. It's normal."

"So? I'm... I'm technically her boss, and she's far too young for me. It's not right, and you know that."

"Whatever. You do what you think is right, man, but I'm telling you; Ignoring it is only going to make you more stressed."

Spencer mumbled something incoherent, and the two shuffled off into the kitchen for God-knows-what. All I could think about was that he wanted me. It was probably killing him just as badly as it was killing me not to give into each other again. My mind was racing, my heart beat violently in my chest, and I knew then that I had to pretend to wake up or else I'd sit there and burst into flames.

I had to leave. I had to do something; What, I didn't know, but this revelation had me reeling and feeling a myriad of things, and I needed to sit with them, preferably alone so I wasn't tempted to just jump him on the spot.

"Did we wake you? I'm sorry." Spencer's kind voice warmed me from the inside out as I shuffled into the kitchen to say goodbye.

I quickly gathered my things and avoided his gaze. "Oh. No, you didn't. If you're back for the night though, I'm gonna go home. I'm exhausted."

"Little guy was that rambunctious, huh?" Luke joked.

I smiled and gave him a wink. "Oh, no. He was an absolute angel, as always. His daddy raised him well. Goodnight. See you tomorrow, Doctor Reid?"

He cleared his throat, rasping out, "Yes, tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Night."

I tried not to run mischievously out the door, willing my legs to be normal. But the second there was a tangible barrier between us, I bolted to my car, high on adrenaline and unable to wipe the smile from my face; I was wide awake.

Eventually, though, I realized it would be absolutely stupid to do anything about it. Did it boost my ego and my mood? Absolutely. It also softened the blow of his avoidance and his initial rejection that night; All of his behavior made much more sense. Sure, I was a little disappointed that he wouldn't entertain our mutual desire, but as long as it was there... It couldn't be that bad, right?

Wrong.

I'd gotten a text from him earlier in the day, asking if I could come over last minute to watch Benny. I wasn't going to say no, obviously, but when I got there to see him dressed up, I shot up an eyebrow.

"A little fancy for work, yeah?" I told him, hanging my keys up and listening for Benny.

"Oh, I'm... not going to work, actually. I, uh... I have a date."

I froze. I panicked. I didn't know what to do, what to think, or how to react. Naturally my thoughts immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario—visions of Spencer sleeping with another woman, someone older and not a nanny. Someone who was distinguished and well-read and smart, someone like himself. Someone who was more inherently right for him. It... made me sad.

Admittedly, I felt stupid even thinking that way. It wasn't my right to dictate his dating life, no matter how badly I wanted him; I knew what he tasted like, knew how it felt to come undone in his embrace, and yet I wasn't entitled to him solely based on that.

Still. It doesn't mean I had to like it.

"Oh... Um... Good for you," I told him, nodding and turning away in case he tried to profile me. "Have fun."

He said goodbye to Benny a few minutes later, and then gave me a polite, transactional wave on his way out the door. It shut, and it felt like my chest was collapsing.

But I was only able to wallow for a few seconds. Benny tugged on my sleeve and looked up at me quizzically.

"Auntie Y/N, are you sad?"

His sweet face lifted my spirits like it always did, and I didn't have the energy to think about the other emotions that were swimming around in my chest anyway. So I smiled at him and picked him up, shaking my head. "Not anymore, kiddo; I get to hang out with my favorite person!"

We spent all night munching on Cheeto Puffs and building Lego sets, and it was unsurprising to me that by the time I'd finished one, Benny had finished three. Still, our sets combined to make a larger one, and then we were able to give the people names and backstories and adventures.

Either time passed very quickly, or Spencer didn't last very long on his date, because the front door opened and I was surprised he was home before I could put Benny to bed.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed, running and dropping his half-eaten Cheeto Puff in my lap. I laughed and tossed it in the trash can on my way to the door, greeting Spencer, who was hugging his son tightly and making him giggle profusely.

"You're home early," I observed as he set him down.

"Had to make it home before curfew, of course." A joke. He was deflecting. I kind of hated that I felt relief at the insinuation.

"Of course," I agreed.

"So, what did you guys do while I was gone?"

Benny jumped and grabbed his father's hand. "Auntie Y/N and I made a whole Lego village! It has a library!"

"It does?" Spencer asked bending down to his level and positively beaming. The sight made my chest tighten.

"It really does! Do you want to come see?"

"Oh, absolutely. I just have to talk to Auntie Y/N first, and I'll be right in, is that okay?" He nodded and Spencer ruffled his hair. "Okay. Say goodnight."

Benny turned and ran to me then, and I squatted down to hug him. "Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Thank you for building with me."

"Oh, you're welcome, kiddo. You're an excellent building partner; The best in the business."

He laughed and scampered off to his bedroom, and as I stood up, I felt Spencer's eyes on me. I couldn't decipher what the feeling was on his end, but regardless, it burned a hole through me and made my heart pound in my ears.

"How'd it go?" I asked casually, dusting Cheeto off my jeans. Did you do it just to forget about how much you want me? Did it work?

He shrugged and leaned against the counter with a lazy smile. He almost looked exhausted. "I'd have much rather liked to be at home with my boy and his best friend to tell you the truth."

My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder what he was getting at. Was he fucking with me? Or was he simply telling the honest, innocent truth, while I was letting my lust take the drivers' seat and go searching for some insane imaginary intention to help along my hot-single-father/nanny fantasy?

Suddenly, I was the one who felt exhausted, and Spencer could tell. He shifted and continued talking. "Thank you again for staying with him on such short notice."

"Oh, anytime. It's what I'm here for. In fact, feel free to go on all the bad dates you want."

I don't know why it came out of my mouth, but I was glad that Spencer laughed. Still, I scrambled to get my keys and walked past him to leave, kind of embarrassed by the verbalized impulsive thought regardless.

His hand grabbed my arm gently before I could leave, and my heart caught in my throat. I dared to look up at him and immediately felt that familiar heat return to my core, suddenly very fragile under the weight of his gaze.

He studied me for a moment before he let go of my arm and cleared his throat. "Goodnight."

I couldn't help the feeling that he wanted to tell me something else. He did say he wanted to talk to me before putting Benny to bed, after all... So, what? That was it?

It was stupid, and I should have just told him, "Goodnight," back, but those damned impulsive thoughts kept dancing on my tongue with reckless abandon, and I couldn't stop them from escaping. So, without another thought, I tilted my head and asked him instead, "Was she my age?"

Spencer stared at me, something darkening in his eyes when he responded, "No."

I threw back one of his considering hums, glancing down at his lips before looking him directly in the eye and giving him a firm, "Oh." There were plenty more things I could have told him, none of them appropriate. But I figured I'd already had enough pushing my luck for the night, and reached for the doorknob instead of dragging it out. The night would end like it always did, with a formal, professional farewell.

I was about to finally tell him, "Goodnight," but his hand came down very gently over mine and rendered me silent. Our eyes met once more, and a shiver ran down my spine.

"Even if she had been, she wouldn't have been you."

And then he opened the door for me, and I walked out without another word, my head spinning and my heart threatening to give out on me. He hadn't even kissed me, but he might as well have; I was just as breathless.

ACT III: He Is Nice, But He Looks So Mean.

I was actually littered with nerves walking in the door the next time I came over to watch Benny.

I hadn't heard anything from Spencer for a week, until he called and asked me to come over for the night to watch him while he went to work. I was going to do it with no questions asked, obviously, but because that insane confession was echoing in my mind on a continuous loop since it happened, I couldn't even bring myself to think about seeing him again and knowing... I had no idea what reaction my body was going to have to being in his presence again.

It scared me, but also deeply excited me.

Once my body had enough courage to step through the doorway, my heart rate sped up exponentially, and then upon seeing what was in front of me, it stuttered with a terrifying halt.

Warmth flooded my veins and brought a smile to my face when the four-year-old boy I nannied for and loved more than anything threw his hands in the air and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Happy Birthday!"

He ran up to me and nearly toppled me to the ground, and on instinct, my arms reached out to pick him up as he hugged my neck and listed off the things he did to celebrate.

"Daddy said your birthday was yesterday, but we wanted to give you a party just like you did for my birthday! So we went to the store and got you ingredients for your cake, and we made it just for you!"

"You did?" I exclaimed, setting him down and letting him lead me to the kitchen where the cake was sitting out on the table, clearly homemade by two boys who didn't know the first thing about baking or decorating anything. Spencer was standing across the kitchen table with a proud, albeit I-know-it's-not-much-to-look-at smile, but I barely had time to thank him before Benny told me about the process, step-by-step.

As he went on, I nodded and admired the cake, complimenting the purple and green swirls of frosting (his favorite color and mine, he explained), and the trail of assorted candies in the shape of a stegosaurus in the middle (my favorite dinosaur).

"Do you love it, Auntie Y/N?"

I hugged him again with tears in my eyes. I tried not to actually cry, but the tugging at the back of my throat and the blurring of my eyes was extremely difficult to push away. I realized then, as Spencer watched me with his son and looked like he might have been ready to cry himself, that it wasn't worth trying to hide. I was extremely moved and even happier in that moment than I think I'd ever been. I loved that man and his child more than anything I'd ever known.

So, I blinked hard and let the tears silently descend down my cheeks, kissing the side of Benny's head as I told him, "I love it so much. And I love you so much. Thank you."

I looked up at Spencer and said it again. "Thank you."

He nodded, reaching for the star-shaped candle next to the cake. "You're very welcome. Benny, do you want to help Auntie Y/N light the birthday candle?"

The boy squirmed in my arms and I let him down with a laugh as he excitedly reminded us, "That's my favorite part of birthdays!"

"I apologize if you find an eggshell," Spencer warned a few minutes later, slicing the cake after the song had been sung and the candle had been blown out. He slid my plate over and handed me a fork. "Benny and I did our best to fish them all out, but it's... surprisingly harder than it looks."

As Benny nodded in agreement, I looked down at him and took a forkful of cake. "Oh, I don't have anything to worry about. I'm sure you two are excellent eggshell fishermen."

The four-year-old giggled, but his father sighed as if to say, Don't say I didn't warn you...

To no one's surprise but Spencer's, the cake was delicious. I may have played it up for dramatic effect, putting on a whole show as I chewed and considered every bite, playing as if I was unsure and really critiquing the dessert. I set my fork down and looked at Spencer with squinted eyes, then slowly to his son. The suspense was obviously killing him, his small limbs bouncing with anticipation and a smile that suggested he was going to urge the verdict out of me if I didn't announce it very soon.

I decided to spare him the wait.

"Benjamin Reid... That might just be the best cake I've ever had."

"Really? No eggshells?"

I laughed, reaching to give him a high-five as he beamed up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide-open smile. "Not a single one. You should be very proud of yourself. You and your dad, both."

Benny hugged me again, and I glanced over to Spencer, who was slicing another piece of cake and staring at me with that intense look in his eyes, a satisfied half-smile adorning his face. A rush of heat came surging through my bloodstream like a tidal wave, and I had to look away from him or I was afraid I'd collapse on the spot.

Benny didn't know it, but he was saving my life in that very moment, as the three of us ate cake together. I refused to look at his father. I needed literally anything else to keep me from even glancing his way, and my four-year-old best friend's rambling habits were the perfect focus.

He told me more about his process for decorating the cake, and while I was genuinely a little surprised at how much thought there really could have been with the task, with an ever-moving mind like Benny's, it was actually quite clear by the end of it. It charmed me to no end and filled me with pride to know that I'd had enough of an impact on him to trigger this level of detail and consideration. Again, it's not like I'd never had people who cared about me before, but when it came to the Reids, my heart sang a tune I'd never heard, and it was the most beautiful, brightly vivid sound I'd ever had the pleasure to hear—to feel.

I was thinking too much about it, letting the song swallow me whole as tears stung in the back of my eyes and threatened to fall again, when Spencer's phone buzzed on the table. The sound grounded and intrigued me, even more so when he glanced up at me for a moment, right before directing his words to his son.

"Benny, Uncle Will is outside. Is your bag ready?"

He jumped from his seat and nodded. "In my room."

"Okay. Before you grab it, say goodnight to Auntie Y/N."

I felt the toddler's arms hugging my legs, and turned all my attention to him, refusing once again to look at the man whose eyes I could feel burning me alive with something deeply ravenous, begging to be unfettered. I had a feeling, creeping over my senses like a thick blanket of ivy, that I wasn't making it up and letting my desire for him take the wheel, either; Just as the loving, family-friendly song in my heart had been—bright and vivid—this feeling was just as much the same in its intensity, only echoed with a sound that felt very much like those dark, low hums Spencer always emitted alone in my presence. I felt it all around me and hoped to God that I wasn't about to leave this place feeling like a hopeful, stupid idiot.

"Goodnight, Auntie Y/N. Did you like your birthday?"

"I did, Benny," I answered in earnest, ruffling his hair. "You're very thoughtful and kind. Thank you so much."

"I love you, Auntie Y/N."

I squeezed him tight and made sure he understood every word as truth when I told him, "I love you, too."

ACT IV: When I Grow Up, I Wanna Be Your Girl.

The apartment was quiet when Spencer took Benny outside to meet with Will. I did my best to keep myself busy, cleaning up forks and plates, and wiping down the counter tops while simultaneously ignoring the hammering of my heart against my chest. The organ wouldn't calm down, even as I hummed to myself. It's like those nerves that I had walking through the front door that night never actually went away— only subsided for a little while in favor of wholesome celebration.

Part of me wanted to flee, but I knew it wasn't an option. Not really. I had to at least talk to Spencer and thank him for the effort. Perhaps I was good enough of an actress that I could pretend to have been ignorant of his glances all night, or at least that they didn't affect me like he maybe wanted them to.

Catching myself in the act of overthinking again, I grunted and slammed a glass of water, willing the fresh liquid to wash away any insanity. There was no use going through all the possible scenarios in my head, not when there wasn't much time before Spencer returned. No matter what happened, I wasn't going to be prepared for it.

I certainly wasn't prepared for the way my heart practically leapt out of my chest when he returned, softly opening and closing the door. It took everything I had not to turn around and allow him to see how nervous I was. I kept my back turned, hoping and praying I wasn't visibly shaking as heavily as I felt. I was warm all over.

His presence behind me was dense and ever-present― almost suffocating. I took my time drying off the plates and forks I'd washed while he was away, hearing him rustle around without a word or acknowledgement of me, and then he finally spoke. I almost dropped a fork.

"Why are you doing my dishes, Birthday Girl?"

"My birthday was yesterday..."

He laughed and came up behind me, a gentle hand on my lower back as the other reached around and took the silverware from my grip. I relented, feeling myself numb at his touch and trying to steady my breathing.

"Yes, but we're celebrating today. In my household at least, that means you're not allowed to do any work."

I turned around to face him as he set the fork down on the counter, his other hand still hovering over my back. It returned to his side, disappearing into the pocket of his pants as I crossed my arms and looked up at him. Thankfully, despite the constant whirring of nerves and desire coursing through my entire being, I was able to hold a conversation without hesitation.

"You're not my dad."

Another amused grin. "No, I'm not. But I am your boss. And as your boss, I'm asking you to take the night off and enjoy yourself."

The way he was staring down at me seemingly punctuated his words with a gentle seduction that made me ache with need. I was getting stronger and bolder by the second, leaning forward just enough to be toe-to-toe with him.

"Okay, then, Boss... Tell me, are there any restrictions to enjoying myself in your household? Because..."

The second I heard that familiar hum rumble from his chest, I knew I was in danger― glorious, beautiful danger. His eyes glanced down at my mouth for a second before returning to my own, his body leaning into mine and his free hand reaching out to trap me against the counter.

I tilted my head and brought my fingers up to toy with the tie hanging from his neck. "I am all grown up now, after all..."

"And I suppose you know exactly what you want..."

"Mm-hmm," I drawled, pulling him in closer by the tie. Our lips were barely touching by that point, and I felt my head start to pulse with anticipation as he urged me to go on.

"Well?"

"I want to be yours."

He hummed again, pushing his body to mine and bringing the pocketed hand up to hold the side of my head. "Mmm, Darling, you always have been."

And then he kissed me.

He tasted like sugar, but his intentions were anything but sweet. His mouth devoured mine with a fire that threatened to turn me to ash. Every sense I had was alight, engulfing me in a heat so intense that it was all I was sure to know for the rest of my life. It's all I wanted and all I needed.

I met his intensity with eager hands, exploring the planes of his body as his tongue did wicked things to my own. This time I didn't even need the champagne; I was dizzy on Spencer alone. The fizz boiled me from the inside out and urged my limbs to cling to him like it was my life's purpose. Hell, for all I knew, it was my life's purpose― to burn for him and let him consume me. To revel in his dancing flame and allow it to become my life force. I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything.

And I was sure to let him know that, too, refusing to hold back the string of whines and moans that escaped me every now and again. The hand that had been resting on the counter behind me came down to grip and hike up my thigh, our hips colliding just as beautifully this time as they had the last. The memory caused another wanton sound to tumble from my mouth, and Spencer caught it greedily, pulling back for air long enough to squeeze my thigh and sing me a praise of his own.

"God, I love the sounds you make..."

His lips were on mine again before I could respond, but I didn't even need to. Not verbally, anyway; I guided his hand down the side of my face and over my chest, pushing my body into him and feeling his fingers tighten. His kisses grew hungrier, and suddenly I was starving.

I was finally able to break away from his mouth in favor of tasting the skin and stubble along his jaw. Then, I buried my face in his neck and reached for his belt, praying he wouldn't jump away like last time.

Thankfully, he didn't. His grip on both my breast and my thigh tightened again, but he didn't pull away from me. His breath didn't even hitch.

I took that as a good sign and slowly undid his belt. The sound alone was enough to send a jolt of excitement between my thighs, though the visions dancing behind my eyelids of what I planned to do in just a few moments helped my pleasure immensely. I dragged my tongue softly along Spencer's neck before freeing the belt and sinking to the ground alongside it. His hands fell away from my body and chose to root in my hair instead. The gentle tugging at my scalp admittedly made me stumble, but not out of discomfort; I was actually quite surprised at how much I liked the feeling.

Spencer noticed, humming again with amusement as I went back to tugging down his pants. Still, he said nothing, instead watching me intently as I continued my journey.

I didn't hide the desire I felt as I palmed the length of him through his underwear. In fact, I couldn't decide if I wanted to keep my sight leveled or to angle it up at him, because it was a damn good sight either way; The sensual nature of my fingers gently caressing him, knowing what was resting beyond that thin layer of fabric and imagining how it probably felt to him, or the thick and domineering air between his face and mine, his gaze committing every movement I made to wicked memory...

With a sigh, I opted to lean forward, ignoring the sharp bruising on my knees and putting all my focus into the task at large.

Spencer seemed to tell I was thinking too much, gently massaging my scalp and cooing, "Have you ever done this before?"

Yes, but... "Not with anyone I've actually wanted this badly..."

"Mmm, that does make a difference..." he observed. "Whatever it is that you need to be comfortable, Y/N― tell me. Okay? Promise me you won't hurt yourself in any way just to please me."

A surge of heat exploded through me at the intensity of it all. He was sincere, and by the sound of things, sympathetic to my overthinking. It was another show of just how much I wanted him to guide me, to hold me in his comforting, knowing embrace and show me exactly how life should be lived. Every life experience there was to know, I wanted to know it with him.

"I promise," I told him firmly, not breaking eye contact as I tugged at the cotton between us.

His eyes struggled to stay open when I finally gripped his cock, feeling the weight of it in my hand and bringing it to my mouth. I glanced down then, taking in every ridge as it disappeared slowly down the length of my tongue. I reveled in the taste, in the fullness I felt the deeper it went, and once it hit the back of my throat and caused me to choke and pull back, I angled my eyes back up at his face to find the most heavenly sight I'd ever seen.

Spencer watched me all the time. I was no stranger to his intense gazes. But when I looked up at him that time, his mouth open and eyes so deeply darkened with need that they could have drowned me, I truly thought I might have died and entered the afterlife. Perhaps that was dramatic, but there was no other possible way for me to describe the feeling that coursed through me in that moment. Suddenly I was chasing it, longing to be in that state of euphoria forever, and my mouth eagerly went to work in pursuit of it.

I took my time, exploring the ways he could fit in my mouth and the ways my tongue could cover the length of him. I went in search of any pleasure point I could find, occasionally looking up to gauge his reaction and finding nothing but those beautiful, salacious pools of liquid gold.

Eventually, I was brave enough to take him to the back of the throat again, holding him there and seeing how long it would take before I felt the air leave my lungs. I repeated the process a few times, stroking him with my hand in between gasps of air and shivering at the way he tugged my hair. My vision was starting to blur, but I persisted, aching to know what he tasted like as he came undone.

Unfortunately, it wasn't in the cards for me to find out that night.

I whined as he held my head away from him, praying he wasn't backing out.

"Stand up, please," he asked softly. It sounded like he'd been breathless, and maybe he had. The thought that I had that effect on him calmed my nerves and made me dizzy as I stood, and his hands cradled my head once again.

"You are so good," he whispered, kissing me deeply. I melted into him, only for him to pull back and continue his praises. "So beautiful..." Another toe-curling kiss, and then, "So perfect."

My eyes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over my jaw and to my pulse-point. "My good, sweet girl," he murmured, and the words caused me to clench around nothing.

"Please."

The word fell out of me with a whimper and at its urgency, Spencer's mouth attacked my neck with a gentle, hungry bite that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Follow me."

And I did. I always would.

As much as I would have loved the opportunity to look around his bedroom and make banter about what I discovered on any normal day, my brain was so overwhelmed and numb with desire that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

Not that I would have had the time to think about it anyway; He was on me the moment my legs touched the edge of the bed, devouring my mouth once more and pulling me into his atmosphere with fervor. Willing myself to get even closer to him, I brought my fingers up to thread through his hair and was rewarded with another gentle tug of my own.

Suddenly I was extremely hot, squirmy and anxious to break free from the confines of clothing, and Spencer could tell.

He broke apart with a laugh, bringing a hand down to trace the collar of my shirt. "Have you no patience?"

"You're the one sucking my face like it's the end of the fucking world," I breathed when he shifted the collar and exposed more of my skin to the air, earning me another low grumble of a laugh.

"You're not complaining are you?"

"God, no."

"Mmm, good," he hummed into my cheek, reaching down and tugging my shirt over my head. The fabric caught on his nose for a second, bringing a laugh to the surface of my tongue before he swallowed it with another kiss and tossed the shirt to the ground.

Warm, nimble fingers spanned my bare stomach and thoroughly explored the surface area of me, up and up until they slipped under the backside of my bra.

"Is this okay?"

I pushed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip. "Yes, Doctor."

Goosebumps littered my arms as he deftly unhooked the bra and slid it off my body, and I barely had time to take a breath before he was kissing me again, pawing at my chest and slipping me his eager tongue. My senses were on overload, that hot pang of need pulsating between my legs as I then fell backwards, letting him lay me down and settle himself between them. His kisses traveled lower, tongue darting out to flick over my peaked nipple, and I involuntarily arched up into him.

No one had ever paid this much careful attention to my body before—It was always a quick pleasantry to get out of the way before the main course. But the way Spencer held and touched and tasted me felt like a crash course in intimacy. He was still hungry for me, obviously, but he made it feel like it wasn't just about the destination. He savored each and every second of the moment in all its pent-up, beautiful glory.

Which is why, when he finally slipped a hand down the front of my pants, he seemed delighted to find that I was practically soaked through my panties already.

His middle finger pressed firmly at my clothed heat, and I sighed into his mouth.

"Look at what I've done to you... Poor thing. You're just aching to be filled, aren't you?"

My head had no choice but to arch backwards as I moaned into the open air at his words, my legs clamping around his hand. "God, Spencer, please..."

"So I'm not wrong, then?" he mused, teasing me some more and just barely pushing the fabric aside. I squirmed and lifted my hips, trying to guide him in the right place, but he pulled away from me then, leaving me cold.

Only a second later did the heat return; Spencer stood at the foot of the bed and gently helped me scoot to the edge. He removed the rest of my clothes and stared down at my bare figure as he unbuttoned his shirt, debauchery settling in his eyes as they raked over me. With careful consideration, once his shirt was on the floor with the rest of my clothes, he came down and caressed my inner thigh, slowly spreading my legs apart.

"You're so wet and needy, I'm willing to bet you don't even need me to prep you..."

All it took was one lithe finger to prove his theory correct. It slid into me with ease, and I whined out at the contact. One finger swiftly became two, and after a few slow pumps with no resistance, he seemed satisfied. "Mmm, that's what I thought... You've been ready for me for a long time, haven't you?"

"Uh-huh," was all I could manage under the circumstances. Every word and every touch was rendering me incapable of anything more complex.

He removed his fingers from me then, and leaned down to nudge my nose with his own. "How are you feeling?" he asked me in a whisper, fluttering a gentle kiss over my lips as his cock barely teased my entrance. It was such a simple question, but it only deepened the desire I felt for him— It was gentle and attentive and intimate...

"Never better," I responded earnestly.

"Yeah?" he cooed. He pushed into me slowly then, and I gasped at the pressure. "Are you ready to take it?"

"Uh-huh," I stuttered once more, crying out silently when he finally bottomed out and ground his hips in a slow circle against my own.

"Tell me what you want, little girl," he begged sweetly against my lips. "Please, I need to hear you say it."

I gripped his shoulders and pulled back a little to hold his gaze, almost gasping out again at the way his hips pinned me down. It was difficult to form the perfect sentence, but I figured I didn't really need to say much at all― only the whimper-y, pathetic truth, which was, "I want you so bad..."

"As you wish."

The words barely left his lips before he began to move, hooking my legs around his forearms and spreading me apart further. He fucked me deeply, and with a steady pace that knocked the wind from my lungs and already had me seeing stars. That had never happened before.

Spencer could tell, a grin forming on his face as he freed one of his hands and softly traced my jaw. "Better than you thought?"

Absolutely. But there was something about that cocky grin on his face and the lilt in his voice that made me want to be difficult. I struggled to talk through heavy breathing, but I managed to choke out, "Don't... flatter yourself."

I don't quite know what I expected, but it was a bit of a shock to me when he hooked his thumb into my mouth and pressed down gently on my tongue, quickening his pace inside me and making me gasp out again.

"Aw... Are you not enjoying yourself?" he pouted without a single hint of sincerity; He knew I was.

I cried out and involuntarily closed my mouth around his thumb, my insides burning alive at all the sensations coursing through me. My cunt clenched around him, and he cried out himself, laughing softly as he did so. "That's what I thought..."

I wanted to watch him the way he watched me, to study his features and his movements and take it all in with reverence, but he was too fucking good at this. He was so skilled in the art of rendering me senseless, all I could do was lay there and take it. He gave himself to me in the most intimate, soul-crushing way, and I wanted to bask in it forever.

His other hand snaked along the inside of my thigh and held me open for him as he looked down, watching himself fuck me. I barely caught glimpses of his wandering gaze, wondering how he could be so focused when it was taking everything I had to stay cognizant. I blamed it on my lack of experience with good sex, and silently vowed to myself that one day I would return the favor.

Until then, I would lay at Spencer's mercy and take pleasure in the simple fact that he was willing to give me this― to give me a piece of himself that would no doubt ruin any other partner. He was setting the standard and exceeding it simultaneously. He was kind and caring and considerate. He was thorough and thoughtful.

And he was making me come. Hard.

The orgasm hit me out of nowhere, my body stuttering in quick, pulsing flashes of pleasure that got stronger and stronger each second. Spencer fucked me through it with ease, never missing a beat. His thumb slid out from my mouth and down my chin, allowing me to cry out for him all I wanted, which, seemingly was his goal.

"That's my good girl," he breathed, his voice tight. Perhaps he wasn't as put together as I thought. "Let it all out for me... Please..."

Please... God, that word sounded so good falling from his lips. It echoed in my mind as I gave him what he wanted, though not from choice. It was like his movements and his words were designed specifically to draw the sounds from my body. I would have given them to him anyway, but I didn't have to try, and that was the magic of it all. He knew exactly what would keep me mewling through the most intense pleasure of my life, and I was more than happy to allow him the pleasantry.

His orgasm came at the tail-end of mine, and though I was steadily growing tired at the exertion, I found the strength to clench around him again, recalling how he'd reacted before. I reached for his hand and allowed him to lace our fingers together as he came with a loud shuddering sigh.

Finally, I was able to focus, another chill running its course through my nervous system as Spencer pulsated inside me. His movements faltered as he spilled over, filling me so deep that I had no choice but to gasp again. My name sounded heavenly on his tongue as it danced in the air behind curses and sighs, and suddenly I understood why he enjoyed hearing my sounds so much. The warmth that bloomed in my chest as I watched and felt and heard him come undone above me delivered me to the most prideful of feelings.

I watched as his face relaxed, felt as his body eased and fell away from mine, and before I had time to even think of what to say, he was moving, kneeling at the end of the bed and spreading my legs again.

Oh, my God...

I couldn't even tell if I said the expression out loud, but I certainly felt its gravity in my bones, low and reverberating as Spencer inspected his work.

His fingers barely caught what had leaked out, and then his tongue followed suit, licking a gentle hot stripe up the seam of me. My fingers clutched at the comforter underneath me, searching for any sign of stability as my senses started to lose control once more.

"Darling," he praised, kissing the inside of my thigh, "you took me so well..."

I was halfway through telling him, "Thank you," when he started licking at my clit, making me stutter. He took his time, tasting me thoroughly while filling me with his fingers. Between drowning in the residual pleasure of my previous orgasm and also in the sounds he was making below me, it wasn't long before another one approached. It was sharp and quick, making my back arch up off the mattress as Spencer sucked my clit into oblivion.

Rather than incoherent cries of pleasure, the only thing that dared to leave my mouth at the sensation was a very loud, very appropriate, "Fuck!" to the evening air.

The curse tumbled out over and over again as the orgasm rocked through me, and he pulled himself away from me at the end of it with a shit-eating grin. "Such a dirty mouth..."

It took me a few seconds to catch my breath, shivering as he climbed back up on the bed and laid beside me. "You're one to talk, Doctor."

"I guess I'm a poor influence. Sorry."

It was mostly a joke, but I could tell that he believed there was some truth to his words. I did my best to reassure him, not only because he was my boss and I needed to reinstate the idea that we both made the decision to sleep together, not just him, but also because I secretly hoped he wouldn't regret the decision at all— regret me. Selfishly, I wanted to know if he'd consider keeping me around as more than just a nanny. I wanted to know if there was even a slight chance that this wouldn't end in total emotional disaster.

"You have nothing to be sorry for... Nothing..."

Spencer studied me for a moment, something settling in his eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it felt... warm. It was a different warmth than the searing heat that his gazes had radiated before. Perhaps it was wishful, foolish thinking, but I almost imagined it feeling akin to the realization that you were falling in love— the type of warmth that terrified yet excited you all the same, that triggered your nerves and also gave you hope.

It reminded me of that dangerous, beautiful hope that lingered in his smile every time he'd come home from a long day at work to see me and Benny safe and sound in the comfort of his home.

His hand gently brushed mine, I laced our fingers together, and that's when he finally responded.

"Neither do you, you know... I meant what I said. Every word." His fingers tightened in mine, and I felt myself become breathless again. "You're perfect. And I'm lucky to have you."

"You're just saying that because it's my birthday," I joked, trying to keep myself from crying in front of him. I didn't know why that was so important to me, especially considering just a few hours ago I'd decided not to hide the truth from him, no matter how emotional and teary of a truth it was.

Spencer pressed his forehead to mine, sighing my name through a smile. "You are... the best thing that has happened to me since Benny. I was afraid to admit it at the start, but... You're so good to him, and so good to me... I genuinely don't ever want to know what life would be like without you."

I couldn't help it then. My vision was suddenly obscured by tears, and I was blinking them away, letting him capture my lips in a tender kiss that rivaled any other.

I prayed in that very moment that there would be more like them in the future.

CODA: All My Rings Will Be Made of Gold.

Turns out, there had been plenty more, and then some.

It's hard to choose a favorite, though obviously I'm quite biased when it comes to my boys. So, I suppose it's easy for me to recall the night I got engaged as my favorite.

I wasn't nannying for Benny anymore; He was in school during the day (Kindergarten! I cried dropping him off on his first day, and Spencer had to console me with kisses and ice cream), and by that point I'd been moved into the apartment for almost a year.

I was out grocery shopping, and when I came home, there were flowers all over the floor, bright colors scattered in an obvious trail that led to the bedrooms. I didn't quite understand what was happening, but my heart still hammered in my chest, unable to shake that feeling of warmth and hope.

"Boys? What are you up to?" I called, dropping the bags off in the kitchen and following the flowers.

They were both kneeling on the floor of Benny's bedroom, Spencer with an open ring box in his hand, and Benny with a piece of paper in his.

"Will you be my mom?"

Really, how could I have said no? There isn't a world in which I ever would have, but even still. Benny was unable to sit still, waiting for me to answer him, and I remembered the night they presented me with that first birthday cake of many for years to come. He was the same way then, happier than ever to surprise me, and meanwhile all I wanted to do was burst into tears over how much love I was feeling.

Unlike that night, however, I was simply unable to tease him with the anticipation of an answer. I couldn't even pretend to consider it, not for a moment. It was the easiest answer I'd ever given. To this day, it still is.

Benny ran up and hugged me the tightest he ever had before, and Spencer got up from the ground to meet us, slipping a thin gold band on my finger as I repeated the word to him through the tenderest of kisses.

"Yes."

THE END.

[hatsukeii]

god, love's fuckin' embarrassing! / bsf!suna rintarou x reader

genre(s): fluff + a bit of crack, bsf to lovers, mutual pining, mutual DENIAL SMH, set in pre-timeskip second/third year, "love is embarrassing" x "love is embarrassing", suna lowkey is a sleazy heartthrob who just gets girls, fumbling his feelings in front of a baddie but it...works???

warning(s): dirty jokes, "suna ur a p3do" jokes and punchlines (he's not), and a kys joke LMFAO, also just INSANE/irrational behaviour from diff girls out of obsession/lovesickness because i have defs! met people like that... but other than those nothing! gn reader too i THINK if it's not lmk i'll fix it :)

wc: ~3.3k

tldr; suna rintarou swears he gives up, because love is just so fucking embarrassing. i mean, seriously, what kind of guy is placing all his bets on his best friend that he's definitely, totally, 100% not in love with? (he is.)

Suna Rintarou arrives at your house approximately fifteen minutes later than he agreed to. When he walks in with your spare key, you’re already on the couch, legs propped up on the armrest and back pushed into the plush seats as you scroll on some random forum. He takes aim, and tosses your spare key from the doorway, hoping it hits you in the face. You drop your phone at the same time, and it ends up bouncing off the case and onto the ground. 

“Asshole.” You yell from the couch while reaching to claw at your keys, just loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough to wake the rest of your household. “You said you’d be here by ten to debrief. Was she that bad?” 

Suna frowns, something you, fortunately, don’t notice. You’ve regained control of your phone now, moving on from your forum to your photo album. Through the reflection of the television, his figure is blurry, but approaching. The fabric behind your head dips when he flips onto your couch, legs hanging from the headrest and head lolling off the seat. You finally find what you were looking for, shoving your phone into his face. 

“The scale? Seriously?...Solid nine-point-five. Not a ten, though. Redeeming factor was that she had big tits, but that wouldn’t have mattered anyways, because she’s fifteen.” You drop your phone on his nose. It slides off his face and onto the ground again. 

“Fucking gross, Rintarou. You’re so gross. This is why you can’t keep any girl for longer than one hour.” 

Pushing himself up, he plucks your phone from the ground, and tosses it onto your stomach. With the rate that he’s been going at, Suna doesn’t think he wants to keep anyone for longer than one hour. Sure, casual flirting is exciting. Hookups don’t sound half bad either. But the next time that Suna  catches somebody he’s never spoken to with a love letter in their hands, he swears he will run into the nearest vehicle. It’s not to say that Suna Rintarou wants to be a prude for the rest of his life, no, not at all. He just doesn’t want to spend half an hour chasing someone off his tail again, for the fifth time in his life. 

“Not my fault they think I’d appreciate them casting love spells and carving my name into their walls.” He glances at your grossed-out grimace, and nods knowingly, a nod that says yeah, it’s been that bad. “I’d rather die alone if that’s what I end up doing while in love.” 

You snicker, turning your entire body so your legs rest on the seats of the couch and your back leans against the armrest. Suna eyes your shirt up and down, frowning at the old, but persistent coffee stain that refuses to wash off. He doesn’t think he’s ever getting that shirt back, but he’s okay with that. He wasn’t going to ask anyways. “She was not in love with you, Rin. Stop being an egotist.” 

Something goes off in the kitchen, and Suna suddenly notices how his nose tingles at smells of burnt sugar and butter in the air. You hop off the couch, disappearing into the kitchen only to return with a bowl that Suna thinks might be bigger than your chest- your head. When you set the bowl down on the fabric between your crossed legs, and stuff handfuls of popcorn into your mouth, he sighs. There’s no running from this after all. 

“So? What’s the Mitsuki level warning?” You raise your brow expectantly, the same way that you do at every debrief session, which Suna never fails to show up late to. Thankfully, that usually gives you more time for the everything shower, because the sessions also never fail to carry on through the night, and into the next day.

Ah, Mitsuki, his recurring nightmare. In hindsight, Suna should have known better than to try anything with her, of all people. For fuck’s sake, she drew gore of pre-existing couples, and posted them publicly with pride. “Not that bad, my god. You think she was a villain or something? It was only, like, cried and told me that I must be in love with someone else level bad.” For the record, that’s not even a level 1 warning on the Mitsuki scale. You roll your eyes, mouthing booooo with popcorn stuffed in your cheeks and sticking a buttery thumb down. The horrors that you’ve had the displeasure of hearing about are enough to turn anybody away from love. In fact, they’re enough to undo the security of happily married parents, and an unproblematic friend group at school, and the fact that Suna Rintarou has been looking a little too decent recently. You chalk it up to him finally cutting the stupid hair short.

Suna’s hand invades the popcorn bowl, picking for the glossiest piece. He knows it’s in there, somewhere, the piece with the best butter to caramel ratio, the one that you always find before he does when he shares a bucket with you at the movies. To his disappointment, it is once again, gone. He settles for one that has enough butter, and pops it into his mouth. You throw a dry piece at his face. He eats that one too. 

“Keep going? I need to update my catalogue of your botched dates.”

“It wasn’t even a date!” You throw another piece of popcorn at his face, and this time, he chucks it back at you. “I agreed to show her around the area tonight because she asked, and I was assigned to her, of all the new first years! I didn’t think she would break down when I said no to hooking up now, did I?” You snicker, pointing accusingly at Suna and wiggling your finger. Then, you sign directions- directions he knows all too well from telling you too much about lovesick underclassmen whose feelings go unrequited. Out the door, to the left, straight for three blocks, take a right, it’s the blue sign ahead. It’s the police station. He claws at a handful of popcorn and throws it at you while you hold your stomach and cackle. 

“I’m gonna kill you, I swear.”

“Nah, you love me too much.”

“Bullshit, I don’t.” Any type of love is too embarrassing for Suna Rintarou to be in, whether it’s what his parents have, or whatever Atsumu has got going on with that foreign chick from “another school,” or if it’s throwing popcorn at him in his old Gorillaz t-shirt, which he is still, never getting back. “Kill yourself. I hate you. If you have one hater, it’s me. I’m your biggest opp.” Yes, of course he hates when you pull this shit, because it’s not like he’s glad that underclassmen ogle over him on the daily. How is he supposed to explain that firstly, he doesn’t want to catch a case, and secondly, he thinks they’re tainting the very concept of love by embarrassing themselves like that?

You put a halt to your mindless laughter and gasp, eyes widening and pointer finger shooting up in front of you. “Whoa there!” The feigned altruism of your voice makes Suna wish he was actually dead. See? No love here. One for Suna, none for love. “Hate is a strong word, Rin. You shouldn’t hate, you should love! Love thy neighbours! Love wins!” Popcorn crumbs line his t-shirt now, and Suna clicks his tongue, running a hand over the plasticky print. It’s in pristine condition, spare for the splotch of brown, conveniently placed in one of the four white areas on the shirt. You swat his hand away, throwing a coy smirk in his direction as you shake the fabric to let the crumbs fall off. He tries to wince, holding back the muscles in his cheeks from moving the wrong way and smiling, and a pained smoulder comes as a result. Better than a smile, especially when you’re prodding at him to choose love. That would have been embarrassing, and very, very hard to explain.

“Love does not win.” Suna turns on the television now, your muted reflections turning to colour as some reality show drones on. Oh look, it’s Love Island, where all the female leads are a little stupid, and the male leads are trying unnecessarily hard not to think with their dicks. “It’s sad, and half the time girls that say they’re in love with me end up running away crying because of it.” 

You hum, questionably. Is that what he thinks love is? Well, yes, it’s sad, obviously. Embarrassing too. You’ve seen it in the sappy texts that your freshly-dumped friends foolishly shoot to their cheater exes, and heard it in Suna’s many escapades, including, but not limited to being car-chased by Mitsuki onto your poor neighbour’s lawn, which they still haven’t managed to get fixed. Still, it always wins, because somebody else thinking they’re in love with Suna means that you get to hear all about them for hours on end, and then try to convince him that there’s obviously somebody better, or at least sane, that's around the corner, ready to love him normally. Not you though, because that’s, again, embarrassing. Although you admit that you wouldn’t mind if he ever asked. 

“I told you, Rin, they’re not in love with you. They’re obsessed, it’s different.” 

Suna shrugs, blowing a raspberry. He doesn’t think you know what you’re talking about, because if you ever needed him to, Suna Rintarou would undoubtedly lay his life down for you, no questions asked. If you ever wanted another shirt, he’d give you his collection, then buy you more if that still isn’t enough. He’d let you off the hook for snatching the best piece of popcorn in the bucket from him, and settle for the butter pieces with only bits of caramel on the edges. Hell, he’d even swallow his ego, and just date you if it helped you with anything. But he would rather die than hand you a love letter stamped shut with red wax, or push you up against a locker in the middle of school rush hour, and has never, in his life, wanted to watch you sleep through a bedroom window like Mitsuki has to him. Obsession, in the name of love, is sorely inapplicable to Suna Rintarou. Therefore, he must be romantically inept. It’s okay, he accepts it. 

“I don’t see a difference. How could you?”

Your mind blanks at his question, unsure how to explain to Suna that somebody screaming I love you! with a DSLR camera full of his photos, taken of him in secret, in places that nobody but he should know, is nothing close to love. When you reach for the coffee table and place the half empty bowl of popcorn down, you catch his expression. His eyes are half-lidded, glossed over, staring tiredly at the television. You almost let it slip that you feel a bit sad for him. 

“You’re kidding. Okay, give me a scenario, anything.” He hesitates, bouncing his leg up and down and tapping his finger against the seat of the couch. His eyes dart towards you, who are staring at him. He doesn’t look away.

“Alright, what would you do if you loved someone?”

In normal circumstances, you’d probably tell them, nothing. When Suna Rintarou is sitting beside you on your couch, however, it’s different. You think, looking at the ceiling to avoid any and all eye contact.

“Well, for starters, I wouldn’t try to fight their best friend.” You blurt out, remembering the black eye you suffered as a result of telling Mitsuki off for showing up at Suna’s doorstep in nothing but lingerie. “And I’d be okay taking a black eye for them anyways, it’s just not a nice experience.” Suna nods introspectively, looking back to the television. Nope, still Love Island, but it’s enough to occupy his scrambling mind. You continue.

“I mean, flowers are kind of embarrassing, and I kinda hate them, but if they wanted to give me flowers, I’d pretend to like them. Maybe try to keep them alive too.” By ascending the stairs to your room, you would see a single rose in a vase. It’s half-wilted, the water level decided with uncertainty a year ago when Suna thought it was funny to give you the rose from one of his secret admirers on Valentine’s day. “If they loved me though, they would know that I hate flowers.” See? Not love again, two for Suna, none for love, because Suna gave you the rose knowing that you hate flowers. 

“I’d take lots of consensual photos of them, anytime, and everywhere.” Suna knows that you have an entire album, filled with god awful, non-consensual photos of him. That means you don’t love him, which is good! Because he doesn’t either, even if he also has an album of unflattering, non-consensual photos of you. Suna’s favourite is one that is actually quite flattering, where you’re leaning up against the handle of a shopping cart, and reaching for a bottle of mayonnaise on a rack. Non-consensual, unbeknownst to you, but he thinks you’d like it if he showed you. “Keep them in a cute little folder or something too.”

“Are you sure you’re not in love with anyone? Because you seem to know way too much.”

“I think s-” Stopping abruptly, you bite your tongue before the next words have a chance to come out. “I think I’m open to it.” You stretch, and your foot pokes into Suna’s side. He grabs it, sitting closer, and pulls you down until your legs rest on his own, which are now bouncing uncontrollably. 

“Okay, good to know. What’s your type, then?”

Your hands reach behind your head, cushioning it as you lie on the headrest. “Someone funny. And sane. Good looking too, but that’s a bonus.” No, this is bad. It’s two for Suna, but one for love, because Suna Rintarou is sane. Love Island on the television erupts into a flurry of applause, and when the two of you look at the screen, two people are kissing. One of them opens their mouth too much, and it clearly freaks the other person out. “Oh, and somebody who doesn’t kiss like…that.” You nudge Suna’s chest with your knee. “What about you? First year freshmen?” He pokes the side of your stomach, right where the coffee stain sits on his t-shirt. 

“Fuck you.” His curses drone off, lost in thought. Does he want somebody tall? Short? Somebody who plays volleyball like him? No, that’s not it. He looks back at you, whose eyes are still trained onto the television. He thinks he should take another photo of you, one that he thinks you’d like just as much as the shopping cart one. It’ll be a lot of effort, trying to reach for his phone in his pocket with your legs over his own, but it’ll be worth it. “I just want somebody who won’t try to climb through my bedroom window at three in the morning.” Now that he says it out loud, it sounds like the bare minimum. “And maybe someone who actually wants me around, even if I’m not romantic or whatever.” You look back at Suna, and suddenly you’re putting every single person that’s ever confessed their love to shame just by being his best friend of four years, sitting beside him like you always have. Fuck, it’s two for Suna, and three for love. He’s not sure where the extra point came from, but he probably deserves it. “I think I just want somebody who loves me. Like, actually loves me.”

“What, you finally get it?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” Suna rubs at his gradually reddening face with both of his clammy palms. You smile, because you’re not sad for him anymore. Your best friend is finally starting to see that love isn’t being chased by a car, or being cornered with a letter, or even being kissed on the cheek by girls who barely know him, but somehow think they’re in love with him. “This is so fucking embarrassing. Oh my god. Love is so fucking embarrassing.” 

“I know, Rin. It’s nice though, I think, when you’re in love.” Your words drift off into the air of your living room, and although you're punching yourself in your head, you come to the acknowledgement that you might just be in love with Suna Rintarou. Love really sets you up to embarrass yourself, especially when you realise it at a time like this.

“Have you been?”

You don't nod, and his stomach drops, because Suna Rintarou is pretending that he wants to make fun of whatever comes out of your mouth next, but hoping for you to say his name. Two for Suna, four for love.

“I probably am right now, but who am I to say? I know nothing more than you do. People don’t even go for me, which saves me the trouble.” You shrug helplessly. If love doesn’t come your way, then so be it. There’s nothing more embarrassing than putting out more than you get, which is exactly what you would do for only one person in the world.

“They would.” 

“You serious?” Suna nods, legs coming to rest. “Proof, right now, or it didn’t happen.” It’s about to end horribly, and Suna Rintarou might never live this down, but he’s lost four-two to love, so placing all his bets on this is now obligatory. 

“Okay, go out with me. I’ll take you somewhere nice.” You freeze, sitting upright. Your body is still as stone, legs still on Suna’s, which are shifting so he can turn and face you.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He doesn’t miss the grin that creeps onto your face. It’s a good sign, he thinks. A sign that you do, in fact, love him back, one way or another. 

“Well, I’m funny, and I’m sane. That’s what you want, right?” Yes, that is what you want. In fact, upon closer consideration, Suna Rintarou is exactly what you want. Who would’ve guessed? Best friend of four years, like you thought, just around the corner. 

“You would be correct. And I want you around, always, even if you don’t like romance, which is what you want, right?” Suna nods, because that is exactly what he wants. 

“Okay, and you…actually love me, and are not just trying to see what boxers I’m wearing, right?” Your eyes dart between his own, and you think about the time Mitsuki somehow managed to steal Suna’s boxers after breaking into his house at three in the morning, before she was chased out and had the restraining order filed against her. No, you’d never stoop that low. Plus, you already know from shuffling through Suna’s closet for all these years, stealing t-shirts off of him. T-shirts that you still wear on rotation to bed, sometimes to go out. You don’t tell him about your friends asking you whether they’re your boyfriend’s shirts, and how you would respond, I wish, idiots.

“I do actually love you, Rintarou. Plus, I think I’d rather not see your boxers again, thanks. And if we go out, you’ll figure out whether you’re in love with me as well, and we can work with that.” The credits roll on the television, and it cuts to an episode preview. Suna looks at you, and he thinks maybe, just maybe, if you ever wanted him to, he’d show up to your doorstep, not just with more of his band t-shirts, but with handwritten love letters tied into a stack too. 

“Nah, I know I love you. We can skip the date and just get together.”

author's note:

watch me post this at 2am sydney time and then get annoyed when no one sees it because 2am is a cursed time for me.... JOKES i don't care because i loved writing this so sosoossoos much and im putting it out as soon as im finished but THANK YOU FOR READING TILL THE END!!! i have a newfound love for suna rintarou thanks to all the research i did on his character both fanon and canon he's so me frl i need to have a suna in my life ngl... I HOPE THIS LIVED UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS THO!!! genuinely one of my favourites that I've written thus far

anyways tags!!!

@chuuya-brainrot @zzwon @akaakeis @blvewave @kongkhoi @hiraethwa @kuroppiii @catsoupki @laughingfcx @tulip-room @fiannee @bailey-reeds @wyrcan @wishi-selfships

ok love u all bye bye until next time

[creampuffqueen]

tell us about the tlok gen 2 kids

ask and you shall receive!!!! making fankids is such an obsession of mine lol

so i have futures and kids planned out for pretty much everyone, but i'll just go over the main krew ships + kainora for now. and i'll try to keep it kind of brief but i have So Many thoughts about them so we'll see if i'm successful. i have like. an entire labelled timeline. it's wild

under a cut because this got so long holy crap

the easiest to start with is the bopal kids. they get married a couple years after the end of tlok and start having kids pretty soon after. they end up with four kids (somewhat considering adding a fifth but we'll see. there's already so many ocs)

their eldest is jade, who is an earthbender. then they have a pair of identical twin boys, named san and goji. san is named after bolin's father. san is an airbender, goji is an earthbender. their fourth child is a girl named tempa, who is an airbender. she actually ends up becoming blind later in life. not whatever toph had, as she was born seeing, but she had some degenerative disease that slowly took her eyesight. she actually ends up developing a technique similar to seismic sense, but with airbending, to help her get around! she keeps her head fully shaved so she can always feel vibrations in the air

the next up to have kids is, surprisingly, kai and jinora. this was not intentional on their part. but they've been dating since they were like 12-13, so i honestly don't think it's much of a stretch that they would end up becoming parents as teenagers. pema and tenzin are a bit upset that their daughter got pregnant at 17, but at this point they've accepted kai into the family, and they respect the young couple's decision to keep and raise the baby

and then after they have their first baby, they decide that they're going to hold off on getting married until their family is complete, so all their kids can be a part of the wedding. like bolin and opal, they end up having four kids as well. all of them are airbenders. their first born is a boy named sangye, second is another boy named tadashi, third is a girl named zaya, and fourth is a girl named tara. it's the jinora and tenzin parallels for me lol. two boys, two girls, four airbenders. despite their young age they are very good parents

then we have the korrasami babies. they have the smallest family, with just two kids. i did some research and as it turns out, sperm donation/artificial insemination procedures were a thing in the 1920s. of course they were WILDLY unethical at the time but hey, they did exist. this is how they end up with their kids. mako is the donor, which i know some people may find that weird but mako is their best friend, i feel like they would rather have a donor that they know and trust than just. some random guy

korra is pregnant with their first baby, who they name katara. she's a waterbender. asami is pregnant with their second baby, a little boy they name hiro, after asami's dad. hiro is a nonbender. they are literally the best moms ever <3

and last but not least, we have wuko's kids. for the longest time they are the cool, childless gay uncles. i think they're both really good with kids, but neither are ready to be parents for a long time. not to mention in my timeline it takes a solid ten years for wu to get the new democratic earth kingdom up and running smoothly enough that he can abdicate. and even after he abdicates and he and mako get married, they're still unsure about kids for a few more years. when they do decide to have kids, they both for sure want to adopt. i have a whole separate post i could make about mako quitting the police force to become a social worker and opening up a youth shelter. but he knows he wants to help out kids, so hopefully none suffer the way he and bolin did. wu does not want to have any bio kids, as he wants the royal bloodline to end with him so there is no possible claim to any kind of throne

but then korra and asami are like 'hey, if you guys want a baby, we're cool with helping out' because i mean mako already helped them have their family, they can do the same for him and wu. and since they're offering, mako and wu decide to take them up on it. korra ends up being a surrogate for them, and they welcome a little baby girl that they name naoki, for mako's mom

then, soon after naoki is born, they end up finding a trio of very young sisters out on the streets. their mother passed away, their father walked out on them, and they have no other family. the eldest girl is only 8 years old. when mako meets her it feels like he's looking into a window at his past self. the girls are very frightened, but mako and wu are able to earn their trust enough to help them out. and in the process of caring for them, they end up totally falling in love with these kids. they ask them if they want to be adopted. all three say yes

the girls are named kasumi, ryoko, and hikari. all three are firebenders. naoki also ends up being a firebender. there's so many firebenders in the wuko house. i'm also spreading my girldad mako agenda. him and wu taking these girls in and giving them a family is actually super emotionally healing for him. he's able to make sure another set of siblings out on the steet has a family

anyway that's a very basic rundown!! i love chatting about my next gen kiddos so so much so thanks for asking! and of course if anyone has any questions about specific kids or families please feel free to ask!!!

[manetsgarden]

The Directioner to marketing exec pipeline

For my fellow 2012-2014 Tumblr obsessives. A heartfelt tribute to the band, the years spent together online, and the many wonderful friends and life I made along the way. /

A few weeks ago it was my friend’s birthday. Six years ago, almost to the day, she and I met at a cupcake cafe, and bonded over the years we spent on Tumblr and Twitter as ultimate 1D girlies while we ate our cupcakes. We laughed about how we got follows from celebrities, or replies from the band, and how we spent every waking moment online, obsessed by different YouTubers, bands, and TV shows.

When I think about the string that lead me to that cafe in Edinburgh, it starts with Harry Potter. I was six years old in Orlando, Florida, and my parents took us to see the Philosopher’s Stone. In the rest of the pictures of our holiday, I have gigantic, frizzy hair because I begged my mom to braid it every night so I could look like Hermione. Six years old, but I knew how to immediately decide to devote myself to obsession.

Less than ten years later, I was watching trailers of movies on YouTube. At that point, I already had accounts on Twitter and Tumblr, but I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do with them. From the moment I clicked on the “What Makes You Beautiful” Youtube video, everything became second nature.

There was no call to action at the end of that video saying “now pick your favourite and love them forever.” There was no need: we watched it and knew immediately what our job was. I wasn’t even halfway through before I knew exactly which one was mine (and I’ve never wavered). Credit is due to the YouTube algorithm for filling my recommended videos with content from their X Factor days, because I spent the rest of that night watching the videos of them on the stairs, searching them on Tumblr, and falling down the 1D rabbit hole.

It was as easy as breathing! There was no ‘how-to’ guide, the word ‘stan’ didn’t even exist yet. The way the internet let us collectively fawn over anything from a band, to a character in a book, to a random person on YouTube felt like a brave new world. I followed One Direction online alongside girls from the UK, Brazil, the Philippines, everywhere. I started my deep dives into other worlds with Harry Potter, but it was as a One Direction fan that I became embedded in the globalisation of the internet. I went from One Direction, to Zoella, to Sherlock, to Doctor Who, to 5SOS, and eventually I graduated from high school and got a life. By the time I did that though, I knew, fundamentally, how the internet worked.

In 2013, I was there as the Mischacopolypse started. I saw those first few posts trickle in. Later that year, I watched the full 7 hour 1D Day livestream. Year after year, I waited for the new Zoella Vlogmas intro like it was the lighting of the Rockefeller tree. Online content, I learned, was addicting because it was the ultimate way to connect with people. I made friends with girls in Toronto, Vancouver, North Carolina, and England. Not just “internet friends” but real, solid, sweet hearted friendship. I still watch their lives unfold on the internet with pride.

By 18 I had built my own website on Wordpress; I knew how to optimise my blogs for SEO, and set up a tripod with a ring light. I knew how to edit on iMovie and MovieMaker, how to find the latest trends, and even how to search engine optimise on YouTube. And, I leveraged it. I had not only a blog and a YouTube channel, and I tried every new thing. I got my first brand deals, and by 21, I got my first job as a Social Media and Web Coordinator for the uni newspaper. When I graduated, there was only one place to go: the home of all my teenage obsessions, and the reason I was who I was, the UK.

Before moving, I debated between Brighton (home of Zoella) and Edinburgh (home of Harry Potter), and it was really just fate that made me choose the latter. Immediately upon moving, I went back to my roots and got a job as a Harry Potter tour guide. I started creating like you wouldn’t believe. I got invited to events, and even more brand deals.

By this point I knew what sold: the person, the story, the personal connection. People needed to feel like they knew me in order to be invested, so I mined my life for content. Within a year, I got a job as a marketing exec, pointing to my blog and my work as a content creator to get me in. Five years later, I have two degrees in history, but a big girl job in content marketing.

Last weekend that same friend and I were driving home together, listening to One Direction and laughing about how we both ended up in marketing. Both confident there was no reason for it other than our obsession with 1D in our teenage years. At the same time, on different sides of the ocean, we fell in love with One Direction, learned Wordpress, obsessed over Zoella, created Instagram personalities, built our “brands”, and eventually, settled for jobs big girl jobs in marketing.

More than our jobs, we have six years of friendship built (from my side) on the trust that because we both know what 2013 Twitter was like as a One Direction fan, we just get each other. We’ve shared countless jokes about the old days, (remember the pandemonium when the pictures of Taylor Swift, Harry Styles, and baby Lux in Central Park dropped??!!!!), and looking forward to when we’re old and there’s inevitably a reunion tour. This was the norm, until she messaged our groupchat at 11:30pm on her birthday, and I only knew it was serious because she wouldn’t be so dramatic if it wasn’t. A quick Google search confirming the truth, one of the most jarring, official endings to anything so far in my life.

When you hear ‘stans’ say they owe their lives to a band or a celebrity, they don’t always mean it in a parasocial or ‘this song saved me when I had serious mental health problems’ sort of way. I was never that intensely obsessed with One Direction, but I wouldn’t have my career, I wouldn’t have met my friend, my husband, I wouldn’t have my home, or, god forbid, my cat(!) if I hadn’t clicked play on that video fifteen years ago.

It feels like a personal loss not because I have a parasocial relationship with Liam Payne, but because in my life there was a clear world before, with him in it, and now a world after, without. It is as simple as saying: it is hard to come to terms with a world without someone who completely created the world that you live in.

Support this essay on substack: https://atmydesk.substack.com/p/the-directioner-to-marketing-exec

[inevitablestars]

HEY LINDS this is my Official Attempt to sway you towards perciver i hope you like it and that it doesnt turn you off them forever, now first off!

general relationship potential:

percy and oliver are in the same year and as far as we know they are the only boys in gryffindor in their year which makes them not only roommates but also the only boys in their room. for seven years.

percy is incredibly misunderstood by his whole family pretty much always, they all avoid him or are rude to him or just misunderstand him completely. with oliver's proximity its very likely hes the first person ever in percys life to properly observe him and understand him!!!

percy is the most career driven singleminded ambitious motherfucker in gryffindor.... second only to oliver!!! who is the most quidditch obsessed bitch on this planet and arguably has more solid career goals of anyone in that entire series. they are hyperfocused! they are girlbossing! they are not getting a wink of sleep bc they both get so lost in their work they forget what time is!

classic jock/nerd combo except oliver is a jock who is secretly a nerd (think of all the quidditch stats!!) and percy is a nerd who is secretly a jock (percy is a master spellcaster and nobody can convince me otherwise, that man fought multiple death eaters on his own at the battle of hogwarts and you do not get that kind of skill from just sitting behind a desk)

idk theres honestly a lot of directions one could take them but theyve just got so much chemistry and so much in common but also different and theyve got so much potential

(in my head they are the definition of autism/adhd solidarity but i know that not everyone hcs them that way which is cool too)

now for fic recs!!!

Twenty-nine - 85k - Endrina

percy weasley-centric fic that is honestly one of the most creative interpretations of him ive ever read, it goes deep into his past and his canonic decisions and stuff but theres a twist to it that is just gold, also its a whodunit where oliver's been framed for murder and only percy knows hes innocent its very very good and definitely played a huge part in me falling in love w percy's character

A New Life - 89k - AnotherAuthor, myroaringtwenties

percy and oliver meet post-war and help each other get their lives moving forward again, its very well written and very sweet but mind the tags its kinda heavy at points, it doesnt shy away from how hard the war was on everyone but the community that the weasleys and the quiddich players have is very warm and i love it

At least he has great abs - 12k - Irisen

this one is a cute shorter nonmagic soulmate au where oliver is a famous footballer and percy is a politician and they end up being soulmates, its very funny and light and i just enjoy it

(also i am technically writing a perciver fic rn its called Rely On Me and the first two chapters are up on ao3 but its my first fic attempt and i havent updated it all summer bc Life so pls dont feel obligated to read it i just felt like it would be weird if i didnt mention it)

anyway! i hope you enjoyed this if nothing else and if you read these or find other perciver fics or just wanna talk about em lmk bc i am always down to talk perciver i love them with my whole heart and soul <3

josephine hello. is this from literally ten months ago? perhaps it is. but i'm here now.... you mentioned perciver earlier and it reminded me that this has been sitting in my inbox for SO LONG

alright let's get into this

�� iconic of them to be alone in a dorm for seven years together that already screams soulmates

• you're so right these two get their minds set on something and they're going to get it they're going to achieve whatever they want (tbh i already think they should put that energy toward like Getting Together but i distress)

• nerd jocks! a slay tbh

• i see the autism adhd thing i get it

• i also think like yeah i agree they have a lot in common when you dig into them but from one glance it's like ? these two? really? but then you see who they are at their core and it's like oh of course how could you think anything else (i have a lot of characters and dynamics that this sorta concept applies to i get it)

also love the inclusion of fic recs which i will check out when i am back to reading <3 consider myself convinced (it did not take much you already convinced me by just sending this ask)

[bengiyo]

Be My Favorite Ep 2 Stray Thoughts

Last week, I was completely unable to resist my anti-Krist bias in my reactions. I find that I am being rather harsh to his performance, particularly because I think the overall level of talent in my GMMTV BL experience has risen so much in the last six months. Still, I am curious where this show intends to go and will try to give is a solid three episodes to make its case.

We met Pawi, a 30-year old man trapped in a loneliness prison partially of his own making, who has spent over a decade resenting a guy because he approached the woman he liked from a distance. Through magic, Pawi has been transported back to the past and has an opportunity to change the events. He used that time to see his father once again, and then beef with the guy he’s mad at instead of maybe talking to the woman he’s been obsessed with. The only point I will give Pawi is that, even if he thinks this is a dream, he didn’t do anything weird to Pearmai.  Gawin is doing a solid job, so that’s holding my interest.

I like that GMMTV is incorporating English and Romanization of names into the credits more. It makes it easier for those of us in the West to track down other members of the crew and follow their work.

Fellas, is it gay to rest your head on another man’s crotch?

I do appreciate the show having Pisaeng push back on Kawi’s misanthropy. Kawi is correct that he has to deal with difficult circumstances, but I also agree that he has made his loneliness a self-fulfilling outcome.

These boys are too goddamn big for all these piggyback rides.

Gawin is so pretty, and he’s getting better at acting. I was enamored with him when he closed the trunk of the cab.

I’m such a SOTUS simp. I saw Kawi struggling to open this door and was immediately taken back to Arthtit accidentally slamming the door on Kongpob’s arm.

So, Pawi can choose when he goes back and forth by interacting with the snow globe. Interesting implications.

There’s something to be said about the idea that you take the first steps at friendship with someone and the potential that has to radically change your life. I think I’m a bit sad that Kawi has no memory of the 12 years of changes he’s experienced. He gets to fiddle with his life, but doesn’t get the ten years of new experiences.

I feel like I missed who Max was in the first episode, because I do not know his connection to Kawi at all.

I like Pisaeng. Adopt the prickly recluse as your friend and push him to strive for the thing she says he wants.

This is the second time Kawi has asked to borrow Pisaeng’s money. I’m buying into @ginnymoonbeam‘s analysis that Kawi is a lot like Rain (LITA), who is better served being spoiled by a handsome rich guy than trying to be a masculine ideal.

Pisaeng is doing the wingman thing really well.

Gawin is so tall.

Interesting way to include an episode 2 kiss. I’m not opposed!

Oh, I like the final scene where Pisaeng goes back for the plushie because he wants to make Kawi happy.

This show is legitimately intriguing. I think I’m going to stick around for a bit. I’m enjoying some of the ideas about how malleable the future is, and how important our connections to others are.

[sweetprfct]

Special Announcement

As of today, I was told by my boss that I am now being trained to be promoted as a Biochemist Specialist/Associate Supervisor.

What does that mean?

It means more projects, more work and more stress for me. That means my stint in this website will change.

I'm here to enjoy my time in this place with no childish drama nor any drama for that matter. I already have enough on my plate irl for me. I don't have the bandwidth to deal with some petty middle school childish drama that is unnecessary and no solid justification whatsoever.

So, if you have a problem with me, you can either be a grown adult and speak to me in private like a normal human being, or you could use the features of this site and click the block button. I honestly couldn't care less what you all think or your opinion towards me because an opinion of a stranger that doesn't know me is not valid. It doesn't define who I am. I'm not hurting anyone, and I have been nothing but nice and understanding to all of you.

However, the hate and the inadequate talk that you spread about someone you don't personally know online defines WHO YOU ARE. Your words and actions reflects you as a person. You could be talking about me in your group chat or private messages and guess what? That doesn't affect me. Be obsessive and be a stalker as much as you want. I will not care.

That is none of my business. That is YOUR choice. If it will be relevant in your life in the next five to ten years, then have fun. You do your thing. If it gives you some kind of validation and helps you sleep at night then you do your thing. It will not make any difference in my life. It's not my energy that I'm wasting.

However, I do suggest looking in the mirror and ask yourself what your end goal is. To be bitter, petty and malcontent over someone you don't know, what kind of person that makes you? Who do you think is more insecure and need validation? Me or you?

For those who has been supporting my fics and pics and all of my posts, thank you for that. Thank you for the several people who had followed me recently and thank you for always being nice, loyal and truthful to me through my asks and dms. I am very grateful for all of you!

This blog will not tolerate any bullying, harassment and any kind of discrimination. If you are doing that, you will be blocked immediately.

That's all I got to say.

Thanks again!

- blair <3

[altocat]

Back at it again at Krispy Kreme!

Ok, so I’m just sharing some more alternate EC chapter 5 translation insight with you guys since people definitely seem curious. Um…small notice, I am still trying to paraphrase what my friend has tried to explain to me, so if I make any mistakes that someone uncovers later, I do apologize in advance.

An interesting Japanese tidbit in the beach scene where Seph says that it’s his first “field mission” helps us get a clearer picture of what he means.

In Japanese, he says that he “has never had much contact with people and this is his first real battle/first time on a real battlefield, so he doesn’t know what he is doing.”

I suppose this confirms that he hasn’t been exactly on the frontlines, although there is that info blob from the Crisis Core guide about him having been “on the frontlines of battle” since before he was ten years old. My guess is that this is either Shinra propaganda, or else it refers to his training, which would still be referred to as “battle,” I guess. He clearly states that he learned to kill without hesitation throughout his training, so whatever they were throwing at him, it was basically “real” but in a controlled environment, perhaps.

Also, when he says “Nothing, it’s never going to happen anyway,” about living a normal life, it reads in Japanese more as “I don’t care anymore/It doesn’t matter, it’s never going to happen.”

It seems like a direct reference to the Nibelheim scene where he laughs off the questions about his parentage because “What does it matter?”

He has really lost heart about both things, but it’s obvious he still cares.

Also. When Sephiroth says that he knows asking about his everyone about his mother isn’t “cool,” Glenn laughs and says “You know it, haha!” which seems fairly translated in the English, but what may be missing is the nuance of Sephiroth’s next response.

He basically says, “Yeah, that’s everyone’s reaction,” but it comes off like he is referring to Glenn’s laughing and dismissal. Basically, we get the impression that people tend to mock Sephiroth’s inquiry because it’s supposedly childish, like a kid lost in a supermarket asking for their mom.

My friend really thinks it’s because of his hero status, i. e., people laugh at the idea of this young super solider asking about something so “normal?” She also suspects it’s a bit of a reference to the fanbase’s joking about Sephiroth’s obsession with his mother in general. Both in-game and in the actual world, Sephiroth is not really seen as human, so people are amused or fascinated when he shows glimpses of it…or else they dismiss it.

The Japanese version of that photo scene apparently gets this message across better. Seph is used to being laughed off or dismissed when asking about his mother. I also would not be surprised if Hojo was someone that laughed at him over it a lot.

Once again, sorry for extra pain, but we may be getting the idea that it wasn’t just a general “Don’t ask about your mother” vibe at Shinra for Sephiroth, but also a long history of people mocking the question. Poor kid. (I will share a few more translation details soon).

Hhhhhh these are SO interesting.

For Seph's training, I'm of the mind that they've probably been having him undertake mock skirmishes/drills under a controlled setting, as you mentioned. Sephiroth has apparently already been killing, so it wouldn't surprise me if they've been plucking enemies for him to slay while still in their custody. Interesting that it contradicts CC's lore. But at the same time, that could have all been propaganda. It's reasonable to assume that Sephiroth's training was likely extremely psychologically warping, and, for him, as real as an actual battle considering he's developed a paranoia and survival instinct. Shinra is so fucked up.

His line about not wanting to be a hero sounds WAY more checked out in the Japanese dialogue here. He sounds completely hopeless.

The Mother stuff...ASDFGHJFDGHBFDX

Keep these coming! They're really enhancing the context of these scenes!

[nectaric]

happy birthday, zeus !! (may 24)

in honour of ten years of zeus birthdays (and 11 years of writing him), i wanted to do a little something to celebrate all my amazing roleplay partners and talk about how important y'all have been in either a) influencing my writing, b) influencing my portrayal, or c) being a reason i want to come here and write ten years later.

as many of you know (or are about to learn), zeus has been the actual love of my life for over a decade now. he was one of the first characters i ever roleplayed, and i have stuck with him pretty consistently this whole time. i could wax poetic forever about how much he means to me, and how important writing him has been in my life, but i'll spare you all a glimpse into my crazy. just know, zeus means the world to me. and if he has gone through growth in all the time we've worked together, then so have i. i was an extremely nerdy, extremely obsessive little teenager in her basement bedroom with big dreams and now i'm married, working the job i have always wanted, with a beautiful dog and big plans. it feels kinda crazy that i get to share so much of that with all of you.

and so many of you amazing people have been apart of that journey or have just joined and are giving me reasons to keep writing!

it wouldn't be right if i didn't start off with @ichoric. accepting me into your little roleplay group almost 11 years ago literally changed the trajectory of my life. you are literally one of my best friends in the entire world - we have seen each other grow through so much, have been there for each other through good shit and the bad. not only have you seriously influenced me as a writer through all of our shenanigans (drowning hazel, titans 2, scary ares, the time we sat next to each other on my couch and roleplayed the entire aphrares wedding for hours), but you have genuinely influenced me as a person. forget how much i love your portrayals, and the depth and creativity you pour into them, so much life and love and intensity that is a delight to behold - but so much of becoming who i am now has been with you at my side and i love you so much i'm lowkey crying as i type this. thank you for 10 + great years and i can't wait for more!

@kissofthemuses amber, i think getting to write zeus / hera with you permanently altered my brain chemistry. its crazy to think about just how long we've actually known each other -- but getting to see everything you get up to, all your cosplaying and adventures, has been a gift <3 not only do i feel like i have become a more mature individual thanks to being taken under your wing a little, but i also feel as though my zeus has fundamentally changed because of your portrayal and that's so powerful.

@pistolslinger nat maybe i'm just an emotional goober but you have always been such a beacon of light on my dash, long before you went off and became a crow. writing with you has always been so wonderful and enriching and i just know i can count on your for a laugh or heartbreak or general tomfoolery. never mind that you're so kind and open to everyone you seem to come across, but you're also really talented??? in so many ways???? i still think about our jason n zeus superhero au sometimes. incredible, thank you <3

@stygicniron talk about an og!!! hilary, we have been writing together for so long and every interaction is an absolute gem. you and i have been in the trenches of this fandom and somehow come out the other side relatively unscathed and i know part of that is how kind and wonderful and creative you are, but also because of how talented and solid your portrayal of nico is. i have seen few people have as good of a grasp on a character as you and its always an absolute joy to get to write anything with you. thank you for coming on this journey with me!!

@littleblackqrow khristle, you have been such a constant in my online life for years its genuinely difficult to remember a time before we followed each other and wrote together. the fact that i get to write with you despite fandom changes (because you have impeccable taste) is really so awesome and i've just really loved getting to write with you, talk with you ooc, and just experience being your rp partner for so long. between apollo, qrow, and grif, we've written so many heartwrenching and hilarious things, and i'm just super grateful you've been here !

@rheaeaseandflow marie i think you are one of the people i have been writing with the longest and don't think that goes unnoticed! your rhea is incredible and has honestly helped me to form so many important headcanons and opinions about my own characters that i think is so significant. you have always been this kind, warm, welcoming presence who i always look forward to writing with, and when i think about the "early days" of zeus i often think of you!

@singofus apis i literally cannot imagine this little corner of the rp world without you. i think greek myth and you are one of the first people who comes to mind. i remember when you and i both wrote significantly less muses on different blogs, but now we're here with our hoard, and our beautiful little headcanons we're still getting to develop, and its genuinely made my time here so much more enjoyable! you're so creative and thoughtful and you have seriously influenced so many of my portrayals i wouldn't even know where to start. here's to a lot more writing, and a lot more time well spent!

@asoulunbound krys!!! greek myth without you is like a pb&j without the pb. you occupy such an important space in this community and also just. in my world and i genuinely appreciate how much thought you put into your muses and the generosity you show to others. not to mention, the fact that you and i engage in very similar niche communities makes me feel so much more connected to you and i enjoy getting to write with you and see you on my dash so much !

@seekesotsibteadmist kyrian if there was an award for most supportive roleplayer ever it would be you. i feel so seen by you and you're so encouraging no matter what the circumstances are. i love getting to write with you (honestly, i could be better about it) because i can just feel the love and creativity you throw into S. i always enjoy getting an ask from you or seeing your ic posts and i am so grateful to have you in my little world, so thank you.

@seaprofound another day, another og !! gods sunny i feel like we have known each other for decades at this point - i think of this rpc, and i think about you and the constant beacon of sunshine (pun intended) you have always been. the absolute depth of your devotion to poseida is astounding and your love and care for the people around you is an example i think a lot of us could learn from. thank you for being so authentic and kind and creative and a part of my life for so long!!!

@stolenbythegods beth i know we don't write as much together these days but i will genuinely never forget you or ganymede or how much fun we have had writing together. you are so talented and sweet and i adore your ganymede with everything i have. your portrayal has altered the way i view not only zeus and gany's relationship, but also how i view zeus, and that's a really big achievement in my books. i miss you, and i'm so grateful for you!

@kallistcs unni aside from the level of sheer talent you possess and the care and detail you pour into your portrayals (which i appreciate so much my heart is FULL), you have also always been the one who swoops in and saves my day. i feel like i can always count on you to be the voice of reason to my emotionally driven, passionate rants about vague myth concepts with your frankly impressive knowledge of myth that i both admire and envy (fondly <3). i love having you around and i genuinely enjoy our threads so much i look forward to getting to write them every time i log on (even if i am Slow)

@saccharic MY SON !!! giuli. i'm not even going to talk about writing because you are talented and ily and i enjoy it but that's not what matters here. i remember when you were abt 14 and i have gotten the joy of watching you grow and become so so so successful and such a wonderful little lady and i could not be more of a proud dad. i feel like this is such a rare gift and i cherish it, i really do

this is a shoutout to others who have been a constant on my dash and who have contributed significantly to how much i enjoy being here. you're all wonderful, and talented, and i'm absolutely grateful to have you around <3

@appleyed @eriny3s @eileithyiia @anthcs @tragillary @ofprevioustimes @reastless @deadshe @luxcruor @thecs @withinycu

and to those of you who i haven't written with much yet, but who i genuinely look forward to writing more with! thank you for following me and letting me invade your space <3

@caeloservare @candlewick-corporation @aestasrosis @sunguns @hxntresses @unseenking @allbains @kuokuana @eiiskonigin @noirbeast

[subsequentibis]

could you please talk more about the metal gear pro wrestling au? i’m obsessed with the concept

okokok. you might be a wrestling fan already but for accessibility’s sake i will be defining my terms here. baby face / face = good guy, heel = bad guy, kayfabe = anything that is true within the wrestling storyline but not necessarily real life. also this was written with my boyfriend @accursedapothecary who did a LOT of the heavy lifting on the plot details ily babe

any group like foxhound, dead cell, diamond dogs, outer heaven, etc, these are all wrestling factions & stables, groups of wrestlers who are allied together and train together and might tag team or show up at each other’s matches to help out or cheer their compatriots on.

solid snake is an up and coming babyface who’s training under the tutelage of kazuhira “hellmaster” miller, an old retired veteran who had like a babyface turned heel turned face again kind of arc, and he’s training him up to take down big boss who is THEE champion, took a title off miller ten years back and has still hung doggedly onto it since. snake beats him, but the title is stolen by liquid snake, a new heel trained by ocelot, who had an on-again off-again tag team thing with big boss when they were in the diamond dogs faction together also with miller, but that whole faction imploded bc big boss and miller had a falling out and went their separate ways, but ocelot was just sort of following big boss around like a lost puppy for a while til boss took the title and then sort of disappeared for a really long time before surfacing again like two years back. that was such a long sentence. ANYWAY. ocelot also challenges kaz to come out of retirement and have one last match with him… A HAIR MATCH. which if you are not familiar the loser of a hair match has to shave their head. kaz loses, VERY sad, his version of dying in this universe is losing his pretty long hair…

SNAKE GOES TO AVENGE HIM THOUGH. takes on foxhound, defeats ocelot with the help of a mysterious masked figure who later challenges him to a match (i can’t stress how extremely Wrestling everything going on with grey fox is.), gets help from meryl in the fights against mantis & wolf, then defeats liquid and gets the title from him BUT then it turns out the big boss he defeated for the title in the first place WASN’T EVEN BIG BOSS. which is also, i cannot stress enough, SUCH a wrestling plotline. also at some point in all this liquid has been impersonating miller on the sidelines and does a whole vince mcmahon IT WAS ME! IT WAS ME SNAKE! IT WAS ME ALL ALONG SNAKE. otacon’s been in like a semi-manager role as well and after the reveal shifts to full time managing. also after the fake big boss reveal venom retires and goes to live with kaz <3 i think at one point there was a really bad botch with a turnbuckle that ripped his actual head open and now in kayfabe they say he’s still got part of it lodged in his skull. venom also used to be a ringside medic and then one day when he was patching up ocelot after a blading incident gone wrong ocelot was like dude. has anyone ever told you you look EXACTLY like big boss. someone call up the big guy i got an angle for him. and venom had always wanted to be in the ring so he was sooo happy when he got the chance… but he’s like a total softie when he’s out of character and talks everyone through the best way to take his moves without getting hurt, it’s like a complete 180 from his in-ring persona. i love him.

also foxdie is a kayfabe thing they use to explain it when someone gets a real bad injury and has to retire early i think… snake gets it which is Sad. so he starts training raiden to take over for him…

that's all i have right now. kisses you gently on the forehead thank u for asking

[betweenthings2]

Number 17 & Gatty from the fluff prompts list has me feeling some kinda way 🥹

Thank you for the ask!! I'm kind of obsessed with this prompt list, so it's linked here if anyone else wants to see it.

Here's fluff prompt 17, “You’re the only person I want to spend my life with."

George isn't entirely sure what he's supposed to do with his relationship with Matty. He knows they love each other. It's an objective fact. They live together. They bought a house together. They share everything. They operate like a couple in all respects. They look like a couple. The problem, though, is that they've never had a conversation about it. Generally, it's fine. George doesn't think Matty is going anywhere and he knows Matty isn't about to start sleeping with anyone else.

Still, that doesn't mean George doesn't worry that this that thing with Matty, this thing he loves with this person he loves, has an expiration date somewhere in the future. He doesn't worry about it all the time, just sometimes, just at times when he couldn't imagine life without Matty this close, just at times like this. Matty is in George's lap, back against his chest, cozy and comfortable, periodically exchanging quiet words and George loves this. He loves having Matty so close, being so connected, loves the warm and solid weight of Matty in his lap. What would he do if he lost this?

Matty sighs and shifts, pressing himself back and resting a hand over George's resting on his belly and continues scrolling kind of aimlessly through social media. When he gets bored, he tosses his phone aside and quietly asks, "Do you ever think about," he pauses, "dunno, the future?"

George gives a half shrug. "A bit, I guess. I've been thinking about being on tour again and what people will think of the record."

"That's not what I mean," Matty says. "I mean, I'm proud of the record. You should be proud of it. I think the fans will like it."

"What do you mean, then?"

"What will things be like, in, like, five years? Ten years?"

"2021? 2026?"

Matty nods. "What do you think things will be like then?"

"I think we'll be happy, really happy," George says almost immediately, thinking of the sometimes fragile mental health they both face, of the stretches of slow and thick quiet that sometimes engulfs their home.

"That's nice, G," Matty murmurs.

"What do you think?" George pushes.

What does Matty think? He thinks a lot of things that he's not going to tell George, so what he says is, "I think we'll still be doing this. Making records, touring, sitting on the sofa." He pauses, then, "I'll keep sitting in your lap."

"You think we'll still be here like this?" George asks quietly. "You think we'll still be us like this?"

Matty nods. "'course we will. What else would we be?"

George doesn't say anything. He's strangely choked up.

And then Matty says, "You're the only person I want to spend my life with."

George is quiet for another moment, finding his voice, then asks, "Really?"

"'course," Matty answers, confused. "What else would you think?"

"I," a pause to consider, "I don't know."

Matty moves so that he can face George repeats, "I wanna spend my life with you. I don’t," he pauses, then, "We spend a lot of time worrying about me, don't we? It's not just you and me, it's everyone, but I didn't realize you were worried about us. I'm sorry."

"'s not your fault," George answers. "And I'm not worried so much as I am, well, we just moved in together, didn't we? There's was no real conversation, just that we should get a flat together and then a house and I just, god, I love this with you and I wonder, if or when I'll have to deal with this ending."

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Matty says, running fingers through his hair. "I, it's not ending, not if I get any say. I thought that was obvious. I'm sorry."

George nods, choked up again, but forces himself to say again, "It's not your fault."

"It probably is a little bit," Matty admits. "I've been told I can be domineering sometimes."

George can't help but let out a laugh. "Really? You? Domineering?"

Matty smiles. "I've been told," he says. He gets serious again, and continues, "But we're ok? You know I love you and that you're stuck with me forever?"

George nods. "Yeah."

Matty's smile comes back and he says, "Good. I'm gonna hog all the blankets and leave mugs everywhere, forever, and you'll just have to deal with it."

"I can't wait," George murmurs, leaning in for a short kiss. "I can't wait."

[jollydragonsalad]

Woke up this morning and checked my sm as usual hoping for something new about Gwen AND Blake together. Sadly, as has become the norm, there was nothing. I’m thinking it may be time to let go of my Shefani obsession. It’s probably past time for me to do that as it has practically ruled my life since 2015. Still it makes me sad. This likely is not a popular opinion but Blake and Gwen together is what I care about. Being a country music fan always I never heard of No Doubt and barely knew who Gwen was until she and Blake got together on the Voice. They captured my heart. I don’t give a crap about No Doubt. I like Gwen’s TIWTTFL album and her Christmas music and love her duets with Blake but the rest is not my thing and never will be. And I’m not obsessed with makeup and quite honestly don’t even look at those posts any more. Since they seem to have both stepped away from sharing as a couple, Im really sad. Watching them for the last almost ten years has brought me a lot of joy and hope. I still believe

that they are solid and that all the rumors have not a kernel of truth in them and that they have a long happy life together. It’s at the point though that it makes me too anxious to follow them so closely. It’s not a good time to be obsessed with Shefani. I hope everything works out well for them as a couple. It’s been my experience that you can’t usually go back in time and recapture your past and that it is generally best to leave the past in the past.

I understand and agree it can be a bit much, like you I was never a big fan of ND knew them have always loved Gwen just never a huge fan until Blake, have always followed him, personally I have never stressed about them on SM ever, understand them backing away since SM can be so toxic lately, they have teams that post for them, I really believe that anything we see on SM today is posted by their teams for them, Blake and Gwen have both said this, the only SM that we can trust that comes from them is when they post a short clip of Blake and Gwen farming, gardening or cooking, doing beer tasting parties things like that where we see they are holding the phone! and then we may get the post days later...

just because there is a post does not mean it is them personally,

all the activity lately by Gwen is I believe her SM team! not her! they have more to do in their personal daily lives than post on SM all day! it is not them!

that being said, I believe that they are just fine in their marriage! the tabloid rumors deserve a space on their bathroom wall with the rest of the trash mags, which they laugh at constantly! ... don't stress over them, they are solid, neither of them is going anywhere no matter the rumors you hear, the only thing that might cause trouble is if one cheats and that is NOT going to happen! not in either of their DNA.. not going to happen ... ever!

that is my stan and sticking to it!!!

[nerdynanny]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN [2.0!]

I did this previously on one of my old blogs, but that was four years ago and we need an update.

TAGGED BY: myself from four years ago @journalsauthored TAGGING:THE DASH

1. FIRST NAME: Max

2. STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF: I was born with one functioning eye. [same] I also share a birthday with the late great Robin Williams.

3. TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON: Still hella ace, so physical attraction ain't it. I'm drawn to kindness, compassion, and just a bit of pettiness. So basically my partner.

4. A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF: PASTA.

5. A FOOD YOU HATE: Peas are a crime against humanity. So is cilantro.

6. GUILTY PLEASURE: Japanese, Korean, and Thai Dramas.

7. WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN: Depends on the weather. Boxers, usually. [same]

8. SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS: Happily in a relationship. When I last answered this I had just gotten out of one with a TERF. I'm in a way better place now.

9. IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE: I would absolutely go back in time to prevent myself from working with a narcissist who has recently accused me of stalking him??? When he traumatized me?? Gaslighting fr fr.

10. ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON: So like-- to a handful of people. This answer is still the same, I'm energetic and entertaining but if someone touches me I will shriek.

11. A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN: Back to the Future Part III. It’s my favorite [SAME STILL].

12. FAVORITE BOOK: Artemis Fowl. Not sure which in the series I love most but the original is dear to my heart. [addition] Cirque du Freak. The Darren Shan saga TIES.

13. YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE: DOG ARMY. [same]

14. TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL]:Oh shit. JackFord [feat @sonxflight​, same], Hilson [with @downs1de, ConYuu [otp 5 ever], SakuSayo [solid ship], and DocClara [with @doctorbrown]

15. PIE OR CAKE: Pie. [same]

16. FAVORITE SCENT: Sandalwood and the Ocean. [same]

17. CELEBRITY CRUSH: Manny Jacinto. He’s all that and a bag of chips. [same, forever jason mendoza fanboy]

18. IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO: The UK. Anywhere but the US. The Netherlands maybe?

19. INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT: Ambivert. I tend to respond to the types of folk around me. [same]

20. DO YOU SCARE EASILY: HAHAHAHA. No. But I DO have an intense response to jump scares. I’ve been banned from a few haunted houses because of it. [same, panic disorders go brr]

21. IPHONE OR ANDROID: iPhone. [same]

22. DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES: Yes. OBSESSED with Palworld and Minecraft. I just love games where I can play with my frens and build cute shit. I once started a cult in a Minecraft RP server.

23. DREAM JOB: Stand Up Comedian [or just being recognized for my MAD improv skills]

24. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS: Give everyone I know ten thousand bucks and use the rest on myself. [same]

25. FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE: Delores Umbridge. But you’re supposed to hate her. [same, also jkr coded]

26. FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER: Undertale. I kinda moved away from it and it's populated by kids lately. I still chat about it with my friends, but I doubt I'll ever RP it again.

[corbenic]

garden proposal anon here 🖐 I would love to read the 10k words you found! really love your story ❤️

In response to this post and this post

Awww, thank you! It always means the world to me to hear that someone enjoys what I write.

I'm going to break the 10k into a few separate posts for easier reading.

Note: the 10k involves Evie processing the news of a loved one's terminal cancer diagnosis. It's a topic I'm sensitive about after a close friend of mine died of stomach cancer, and I've been careful to write a story that doesn't prick my cancer triggers—but please read with caution if cancer is a difficult subject for you

GARDEN PROPOSAL: AFTERMATH (PART ONE)

Word Count: 2,500

Summary: Evie O'Brien realizes that her boyfriend, the heir to the French throne, actually proposed marriage

Written: autumn 2022

Context: an early chapter two draft of my novel The Bonaparte Bride before I decided to publish it as Princess Imperial the website

Deviations from canon: the timeline (Julien proposes in October 2023 rather than March 2023), character ages and birth order, Countess Mimerel's job is different

Marry me.

For a moment, I don’t understand what Julien said. Then I do.

I splutter out, “Now?”

I’ve thought about marrying Julien, of course. We’ve been together long enough for the topic to come up. We decided to wait at least a year, more likely two.

The imperial calendar is already booked solid for most of next year. Emperor Louis-Napoleon will mark ten years on the throne in April. Three months later, Paris will host the summer Olympics. We can’t throw a wedding in there. The public might revolt due to the security bill alone.

I take a deep, shuddering breath. “This is… I… We…” I stop. Breathe again. Start over. “You don’t even have a ring.”

I sound like a whiny brat, and I know it, but I have standards. A proposal requires a ring. End of story.

“Oh. You want a Hollywood proposal.”

I’ve been in France long enough to have heard the term. It refers to the American-style proposal of a man dropping to one knee and opening a little velvet box to reveal the engagement ring, always followed by the words “Will you marry me?”

French women, I’ve gathered, are divided on this tradition. Some love it. Others hate it. But, for as long as I can remember, I’ve expected the man I love to get down on one knee for me.

I wasted so much time in various math classes imagining the ring he’d reveal. For a while, I thought it would be a star sapphire. Then I decided an Asscher-cut diamond on a pave band would be better. For a brief moment in undergrad, I was obsessed with rubies. That idea died when I learned that rubies with Burmese origins can’t be brought into the United States. The red gemstones are mined in lots of places, but I like the color of Burmese ones best.

The ring isn’t the important part, I know. Deciding to spend the rest of your life with your favorite person is. But I’m a magpie. I like sparkly things. And this is an important, meaningful sparkly thing.

“I want to show my family my ring before our engagement party,” I say.

The typical French proposal involves the couple discussing the subject and agreeing to get married. The groom then presents the bride with her ring at their engagement party. The bride isn’t the only one who gets a new piece of jewelry, though. She usually buys her fiancé a nice watch.

I am going to buy Julien a new watch, of course. This might be a trickier feat than him buying a ring for me. I love a variety of stones and styles. He’s much pickier about his watches. He owns over a dozen of them, but I’ve only seen him wear one: the Cartier Tank his parents gave him as an eighteenth-birthday present.

Julien opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by a deep masculine voice rumbling, “Time’s up, Highness. Go back inside.”

I jump. I didn’t see Vincent, one of Julien’s bodyguards, approaching. He’s a tall, dark man. Quiet. Broad shoulders. Lots of muscles. Extremely competent, and extremely deadly. He also knits little hats for the local children’s hospital intensive care unit.

Julien stifles a groan. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“The Emperor will have my head if you catch the flu making sweet talk to your girlfriend in the rain.”

We can’t have that. Julien hates getting sick. There’s never a good time for him to fall ill, but this would be a particularly bad moment, since his calendar is packed.

“Let’s go,” I say.

Julien doesn’t argue. He releases my hands and puts one arm around my shoulders as we walk back through the garden and into the palace. Once we’ve crossed the threshold, I notice two other guards milling about.

They’re not the only staff members awaiting Julien’s return. The Grand Chamberlain of France stands beside the closest staircase, pointedly not leaning against it.

For the first time in French history, the Grand Chamberlain is a woman, the Countess Mimerel. She always wears a pearl necklace and red lipstick. She is a million years old, possibly older. I don’t know her first name. She might not have one.

Tonight, she’s swapped her usual navy blue skirt suit for a lacy black gown. She scowls in our direction. “Your Imperial Highness ought to return to the ballroom.”

Julien doesn’t look at her, instead nudging me toward the stairs. “I’m not leaving Evie alone. Also, we’re dripping all over the carpet.”

I stop him for a moment and take off my heels. Between my bedraggled dress, the plush carpet, and my towering heels, I’m less steady than I’d like. He takes the shoes from me and gently pushes me forward.

Countess Mimerel follows us up the stairs, too close for comfort. “You have a duty to your guests.”

“Evie needs me.”

The countess splutters indignantly. “Prince Julien, are you sure this is—”

“Respectfully, I don’t care.” There’s a steely edge to the words. I’ve never heard him use his prince voice around Countess Mimerel before.

Clearly, she hasn’t either, because she falls silent.

Julien guides me up two flights of stairs. When we reach the landing, we take a right-hand turn, walk a while, and then turn again. Julien stops outside a nondescript door engraved with a bee.

Behind us, the countess says, “I’ll notify Their Majesties.”

“Thank you.” Julien unlocks the door, and we walk into his sitting room.

The walls are painted a sulky green. A large cream rug with marigold and emerald polka dots spreads across most of the room. Two sofas and some armchairs form a frame around the marble fireplace. One is an heirloom, supposedly one of his great-grandmother’s favorite pieces, currently upholstered in cream stripes.

A door is set into the left-hand wall. It’s nearly invisible, since it’s painted the same color as the walls. Julien opens it. We emerge into a small, dark hallway lined with antique-looking lamps and multiple wooden doors. Julien’s bedroom is squirreled behind one of these.

An intricate floral stucco piece bursts across the ceiling, surrounding a crystal chandelier. The ceiling and walls are painted a moody dark blue. A painting of a lily pond stretches across an entire wall. It’s by Monet, of course.

An armoire sits against the wall opposite the water lilies. It’s flung open, revealing several gray suits. An armchair, upholstered in the same cream striped fabric as the heirloom sofa in the sitting room, is carved with acanthus leaves. A sweater in the shade I like to call “Julien gray” has been flung over its back.

The massive bed is set between two windows, which look out over the public section of the Jardin des Tuileries. The bed itself is piled high with pillows in various shades of cream and dusty blue. The coverlet is a restrained floral design in the same pastel hues, set against a dull gray background. A sheer white canopy floats down from above, dusting the floor. I’ve always assumed Julien’s interior designer caved on the paint color but insisted on the bed linens. This is too feminine, dare I say romantic, for the prince’s taste.

Julien flings open yet another door. This one opens onto the bathroom. I plod after him.

The walls are the same dark blue as the bedroom. The tile floor resembles a checkerboard. I take my shoes from him and set them next to the bathtub. It’s a deep porcelain basin, in spotless white, with clawed feet. He peels off his suit jacket and drapes it over the edge of the tub. The jacket is quickly followed by his bow tie and Legion of Honor sash.

I turn on the shower. The water in Tuileries Palace might as well be piped from Antarctica. The plumbing hasn’t been updated in decades, so it takes almost five minutes for water to warm up. Supposedly this will be fixed by the end of summer.

None of the Bonapartes are optimistic that this will happen. Tuileries Palace has been under renovation for five years. The entire process was only supposed to take three years, but the palace is a black hole where money is concerned. It doesn’t help that the team keeps uncovering more problems. Dicey electrical wiring, black mold, lead, asbestos… The situation is bad enough that Parliament has debated multiple times whether the imperial family should relocate until the renovations are done. A small but vocal group has floated the possibility of razing the Tuileries to the ground and building a new, up-to-code palace in its place.

I toss the coat over the edge of the tub, then try taking off my dress. I can’t find the zipper once it gets halfway down my back. I fumble for it, but my hands are too cold to easily grip the small tab. “I’m going to need some help.”

Julien immediately moves behind me and unzips it all the way. “There you go.”

“Thank you.” I wriggle out of the dress and toss it in the general direction of the bathtub. It lands in the middle of the basin.

“Holy fuck.” Julien stares at me. “That is a gorgeous blue.”

The dye from my dress must have transferred. This lingerie is supposed to be white, not blue. I find a mirror and investigate.

Sure enough, the white lace corset and panties are now the same pale blue as some of the throw pillows on the bed. The color is patchy and uneven. It reminds me of the time my third-grade class tie-dyed shirts.

More importantly, I look terrible. My hair has come undone and hangs around my face in scraggly waves. The supposedly waterproof mascara is streaked across my cheeks and has dripped onto my chest, just beneath one of my collarbones.

“Please tell me you keep an emergency stash of makeup remover.” I brought some with me, of course, but my bag is in the bedroom.

The air is cool enough that I can feel my skin breaking out in goosebumps. I am probably still shivering.

“Shower first,” Julien says.

I roll my eyes. “Fine.”

The water is a tolerable temperature, so I step into the shower.

Julien peels off the rest of his clothes and joins me. “This”—he tugs at the scalloped edge of the corset, knuckles brushing my breast—“should come off too.”

“It’s already ruined. More water won’t hurt.”

“I’m not opposed to showering with my fiancée wearing lingerie,” he says, “but you won’t warm up if your clothes are cold.”

I take his face between my freezing hands. He shudders. I must have lost more body heat than I thought. “We are not engaged.”

“Oh, please. We are going to get married. The entire court knows it.”

“I have not said yes and there is no ring on my finger. Therefore, we are not engaged.”

Julien spins me around and starts unhooking the corset. “But if I get on my knees with a ring in hand, you’ll say yes?”

My breath hitches. I’m not sure if this is because of his hands on my nearly-naked body or the enormity of what he’s saying.

The corset drops to the floor. Julien sighs. “That was a very sexy surprise. I’m sorry I ruined it.” Before I can say anything, he adds, “This is my fault. I said something I shouldn’t have, and it hurt you, and it derailed your plans for the evening.”

“It’s not your fault. You have no control over my mom’s cancer.”

“I shouldn’t have asked until later. You were already under the metaphorical microscope. I expect tomorrow’s tabloids will be filled with stories about you fleeing the ballroom in tears.”

I turn around and press my face against his shoulder. “I should have known not to give the press ammo for the social climbing slut narrative.”

He brushes a hand over my hair. “Stéphanie will have strong words for both of us tomorrow.”

I wince. Stéphanie is head of Julien’s public relations team. She’s the mastermind behind several of his charity initiatives and the ongoing push to present him as a statesman. Unofficially, she and I are trying to improve my image. This involves attending cultural and charity events, taking etiquette classes, practicing good posture, and dressing well. As of last week, she thinks it’s working. There’s been a 6% decrease in the number of negative stories published about me in French newspapers. More importantly, positive stories have increased by 20%. It’s taken months of work to get to this point, and I just undid all of it.

Julien kisses my forehead. “I’m going to find you some clothes. Makeup remover is in the second drawer from the bottom, closest to the wall.” He steps out of the shower.

I turn off the water and follow him. I don’t bother drying off yet. All his towels are white. I don’t want to stain one with runny mascara.

The drawer Julien mentioned is filled with square olive green soap bars. There is a single bottle of micellar water tucked at the back. I retrieve it and start scrubbing off my makeup.

I’m almost done when he returns. He has changed into his favorite gray sweatpants and matching hoodie. He places a pile of clothes on the counter next to me. I recognize the silky black shorts and camisole I keep here. He retrieved my extra pair of panties from my bag. Unexpectedly, there’s also a black cashmere sweater. I towel off and get dressed.

The sweater is baggy on me, but not horribly so. I cuff the sleeves to a comfortable length. Julien’s signature woodsy scent clings to the fabric.

When I emerge from the bathroom, he is nowhere to be found. The armoire door is closed. Otherwise, nothing has changed. I hug the sweater tight and peer out the nearest window. The public gardens are quiet and still. The temperature has dropped just enough to transform the rain into small snowflakes. I am transfixed by their slow, elegant dance from the heavens to the ground. It’s a shame they’ll be gone by morning.

Behind me, the door opens. I turn. Julien and his father have entered the room.

The Emperor of the French is in his full evening finery: suit, white bow tie, red sash, shiny black shoes. He has the same bouncy dark curls as Julien, except shot through with gray. His salt-and-pepper beard is trimmed close to his face. Like Julien and Jo, he has a straight nose.

“We need to talk,” he says.

I don’t want to, but the tone of his voice leaves no room for disagreement. I follow the Emperor out of the room. Julien falls into step next to me and takes my hand.

[echidnacht]

Thoughts on the Ecosystem of the Western Wastes

Does anyone else think too much abt the inaccurate science in the travellers guide (specifically the bestiary). Cuz. They were wrong. This might just be me being obsessed with ecology but there is so much potential with the whole idea of the Everdeads in the Western Wastes but then they hit us with this:

Which is just? not true??

(This is from a free reward on patreon titled "How to Slay Monsters, by Sir Caroline (and the herbalist, I suppose)", you can look it up on patreon to read it in full)

While they do get the spirit of death being the foundation of all ecosystems, they don't seem to understand that this is the case for every ecosystem. Being at the bottom of the food chain is a completely normal and natural thing. That's just the producer level organism in an ecosystem. Grass does not go extinct because it is eaten- it's very existence as a species relies on the curbing of overpopulation, giving of nutrients and spreading of progeny that herbivores provide.

I love the world of Second Citadel, and I love this idea- of death being the sacred thing that supports all life, taken literally. So I want to go through and indulge my "erm, actually" instinct to correct some stuff in here.

The Everdeads are described as dead, but still regenerating. Any cut-off branches or leaves will regenerate, but they apparently don't photosynthesise or take up nutrients, though they provide constant resources to the ecosystem. If the largest flora species doesn't photosynthesize the smaller plants would likely have a higher rate of photorespiration or else the carbon cycle in the Wastes would be pretty weird. (Also, I imagine, since the Everdeads were presumably once alive (?), the trees themselves provide a pretty hefty solid carbon store).

(Putting the rest under the cut, this got long)

Regarding nutrients: the soil in the wastes is described as completely barren, lacking any nutrients. However, there is also described to be a layer of leaf litter and detritus from the Everdeads. This is also soil! Just the top layer. Depending on how long the Everdeads have been around, say a few thousand years, this nutrient rich soil would be maybe ten centimeters deep. Not that much, but still!

As for why there isn't any nutrients, I think this could be for a couple reasons- one is that its just bad land, but the fact that the soil is "resistant to adding any" nutrients implies there's something else. Maybe it was a devestating magical event many centuries ago, or (spoilers) maybe it was another early attack by the humans using anti magical metal which now discourages all life.

It's my headcanon that the Everdeads have roots that can reach deep enough into the inhospitable soil that it can reach some kind of source of magic that it feeds on and uses to provide for the rest of the wastes.

Another interesting note is that "the Everdead population crept east one thousand years ago"- possibly the universe's reaction to the mirrored plains? (I could be wrong about the dates here). Either the universe reacting to the spread of death by spreading "death", or wanting the Everdeads to help heal that area. No idea.

Other fun things: The fact that the primary contribution is detritus means the blooming of saprophytes like microbes and fungi. There's probably lots of mushrooms growing out of Everdeads and in shady places under them, which I think adds to the "fall aesthetic". Insects would likely also thrive in the leaf litter. I imagine Everdeads to be like giant redwood trees. I imagine a similar ecosystem to that as well- smaller shrubs and a few grasses and mosses in more sunny patches, as well as epiphytic ferns and plants growing on the Everdeads themselves.

One other thing is that since prety much all of the Wastes (a pretty big area) has the exact same producer and therefore the same niche, there can't be that much biodiversity. That would only come from things like mountains, water, and climate changes. I assume the Wastes are pretty temperate if not tropical, seeing as there's dinosaurs there, though its unclear how much rainfall there is. I imagine it takes after more barren ecosystem like deserts and tundra, with few species and maybe one or two top predators (the predator here being the T-rex, i imagine). There's also mentioned swinging mice, which are presumably monkeys- probably herbivores feeding on the plants and fruits the Everdeads allow to grow. Maybe the wastes are known to be barren due to the lack of diverse species and not just the fact that cultivated plants can't grow, who knows.

Another headcanon is that Everdeads do not have a latin name because it is impossible to track their lineage as they do not die. We know latin names are a thing in Second Citadel because Sunny Budkin says this:

Though they don't seem to be in common use in the Citadel as we never hear Rilla use any. Possibly a monster thing, possibly something from a lost previous civilisation (Sunny is like 50 thousand years old after all). Everdead seems to be more a state of tree than a species anyway.

Thank you for reading this tangent, I have so many thoughts about the second citadel world. I could also go on about the implications of Arum creating creatures in his swamp and their theories of evolution, though that is explored a bit more in canon (the sweetfrog story is accurate enough, though I could still nitpick one or two things) and I've half drafted an in-universe research paper on the Numb-Cap written by Rilla and Arum. I do love that ecology has something of an important role in SC, seeing my subject represented is nice to see.

If anyone has any additions or corrections I would love to hear them!

[alittleillumination]

2023 Drama Round-Up!

I know no one asked for this, but I figured I’d post what I’ve watched this year and how I rank them in case anyone is looking for recommendations! I saw @dangermousie did this and stole this idea (hope that’s ok!)

14. Heartbeat: It was…fine? Didn’t really leave me with any lasting impression. Was hoping for more from a drama about a vampire. I need a good vampire drama. This wasn’t it.

13. Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo - So much potential, didn’t live up to the hype. Give me those BATB vibes any day normally, but in this case the FML was too Mary Sue for me.

12. Back from the Brink- Fun! Good side characters! ML bored me to tears. FML carried the drama. Will keep an eye out for her.

11. Moon in the Day: A solid story. Nice and neat. Definitely would watch the ML in other things. I’m always here for a reincarnation storyline.

10. My Journey to You - Esther Yu! Zhang Linghe! Other awesome characters! Vibes! Otherwise just OK, I wasn’t super invested in the story. Would watch a second season if they deign to make one.

9. The King: Eternal Monarch - Another one that had great potential and I ended up somewhat disappointed. The concept was fantastic. I really love a modern day story with a modern monarch who’s beloved. I’m a big fan of the two main actors so that bumped it up the list. Unfortunately their chemistry was only so-so.

8. Tale of the Nine Tailed S1 - LEE YEON AND LEE RANG brother dynamic sobbbb

7. Doom at Your Service - Great leads with awesome chemistry! Sad! Story was simple and sweet.

6. Love is Sweet - OG Bai Lu/Luo Yunxi couple!! I loved them so much, I’m def watching this show again and again. Couldn’t stand the second couple, though, I skipped all of their scenes.

5. Alchemy of Souls S1 - This show has such a phenomenal concept, and a really well flushed out universe. The side characters are all great and three dimensional. I love the magic too. It’s lower on the list just because I’m not as emotionally connected to the leads as I am to those in other shows, but I really love this show.

4. Tale of the Nine-Tailed 1938 - This show has it all: magic, romance, historical setting, fashion, time travel, politics, humor. As much as I love LDW/Lee Yeon, the show was really an ensemble triumph. The story, the action, the humor, everything was top notch. Excelled in surpassing the first season in quality which seems so unlikely but they really did it.

TIED FOR SECOND

Til The End of the Moon - What can I say about this show? It’s wump central. It’s serving misunderstanding trope but make it completely overdone and unbearable. The fake blood budget alone could have paid all of the actors’ salaries. The female lead got shafted in favor of the male lead.

And yet…

You’ll think about this show every day for the rest of your life. I know I do.

(Also credited for the beginning of my obsession with Luo Yunxi. He’s babygirl. Tantai Jin is the best character ever written.)

Goblin - Oh man, this show. THIS SHOW. Despite some controversy over the age difference between the main couple, i love them. I grew up on vampire romance, nothing can sway me there. I really bought into their romance and I was devastated when they went through it. I cried more in this show than I have in any other. I also completely loved and was invested in the second couple, which almost NEVER happens.

Despite the romance of the two couples being stellar, it was the friendship and the found family that really sold it for me. The Goblin and the Grim Reaper have the best friendship and wildly fun chemistry onscreen. I couldn’t get enough of them. I watched the bts of them so many times over.

And my favorite for 2023…

1. Love Between Fairy and Devil - My first Asian drama. My first love. Noting will surpass this. No couple will touch Dongfang Qingcang and Xiao Lan Hua. I’ve rewatched it twice already. It’s the clear winner.

I’m currently watching My Demon and so far it’s rly good. Might break top ten.

On the short list to watch in 2024:

- Alchemy of Souls S2 (I’m not ready for it to end but I NEED to see it)

- Ashes of Love (I’m forcing myself to finish this I HAVE TO FOR LY)

- Story of Kunning Palace

- Only for Love